


Tiaras are for queens

by pandaspots



Series: Toddlers and Tiaras AU [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Asexual Character, HELLA SLOW BUILD, M/M, Queer Character, Toddlers and Tiaras AU, Trans Female Character, let's make this official yo, perceived crossdressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaspots/pseuds/pandaspots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five year old Eren decides he wants to be a pageant queen. Glitter, fake lashes and sparkly dresses, the whole nine yards. Carla doesn't have the patience nor the health to dissuade her son, and Grisha is simply far too tired on a daily basis to hold onto ingrained prejudices anymore.<br/>They agree. He meets Jean. Cuteness ensues.</p><p>Also the toddlers and tiaras au no one asked for. I seem to be queen of those.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll be a girl if I want to

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO DEARIES!  
> I wrote the thing  
> Actually I've been writing it to procrastinate writing for the serial killer au. It is obvious i have succeeded.
> 
> This is dedicated to all my friends on skype, who patiently listened to my whining.
> 
> (as a warning tho, my laptop is crapping, so i'm not writing this on it anymore, and if i don't get a new one in like 2 weeks i'm screwed and i'll need to delay several updates. and by that i mean anything from chapter 2 onwards)  
> (i'm posting because this literally appeared in my dreams, yelling at me to post it)

"Mommy, I wanna be pretty like those girls."

Carla really should've seen that coming, after letting Eren watch whatever was on TLC. Except the girl part, that one she never saw coming.

"Eren, baby?" She asked, believing she just heard that wrong.

"I wanna be pretty and wear sparkly dresses!" The five year old beamed, eyes wide.

"But that's for girls, baby."

"I'll be a girl then." He pouted, frowning.

"Eren, you can't be a girl, you're a boy." Carla tried to argue. Maybe she could win this argument by exhausting her son.

"I can if I put a dress and fake hair!" He yelled, getting angry.

Carla breathed in, steeling herself for another lengthy debate with her five year old stubborn son over clothes. She figured after the Princess Bubblegum t-shirt Showdown and the Flowery Headband Temper Tantrum, she just ought to give up and play along, but Eren inherited his stubborness from somewhere. Except she didn't count in the fact Eren had had three chocolate chip cookies, and she had just finished sweeping the house.

* * *

 

 

In the end, Eren won. She didn't count on her son being so hard-headed and determined about it that the discussion bled into the next day. Carla was really surprised because Eren grabbed her iPhone and told Siri to search images of sparkly dresses, and started showing her, what he liked, what was pretty, ooh sparkly! When Grisha got home from a 70 hour shift, at 10PM after Eren went to sleep, Carla tried to talk to him about it.

"Grisha, I think our son is transgender."

She saw him pause, taking his tie off that much slower.

"What makes you say that, dear?"

"Yesterday I left him watching TLC, and he yelled about wanting to be a pretty girl." She closed her book and turned in bed. "I tried telling him sparkly dresses were for girls and you know what he said? 'I'll be a girl!' And today he just... grabbed my phone and searched pageant dresses, and started showing them to me. He really wants to be a pretty girl."

"Maybe it's a phase, and he'll grow out of it in three days." Her husband yawned and pulled his belt off like he wanted to sleep with his current clothes on.

"Are we even talking about the same kid? Grisha, we're talking about my son. He lectured me and every person in a ten aisle radius about the virtues of Princess Bubblegum once." She glared. "He owns My Little Pony leggings. You know what he wants for his birthday? A canopy bed."

"We can't draw conclusions, Carla. He's five. Maybe it's the real deal, maybe it's a phase, maybe he just likes girl stuff."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"That's my professional opinion. Just take him to a pageant, how bad can that be for him?"

* * *

 

They started out slow. Natural beauty pageants, in which not a lot of make up was required. In the first pageants, the organizers look weird at her as if she was forcing Eren to put on a dress, but signed him in with the girls. Eren was awestruck. Soon he was chatting with the girls, and charming over the hairdressers, who were very curious over a five year old boy competing with girls for crowns. In that first pageant, it became very clear to Carla that her son not only watched a lot of Toddlers and Tiaras, but he was really, really competitive.

The entire outfit changing ordeal was more stress than she ever would want in her life, but at least he didn't put up a fight. The zipper hit him in the nose and startled him into crying but it was nothing big, and he stopped really quick.

In his first pageant, Eren got Novice Supreme, as well as divisional prizes like natural beauty and best personality (which Grisha still thinks as ironic, because he thinks his son's personality is horrible). Eren, however, is very proud of that trophy and that crown.

"I'm nicer than those girls, they scream and hit their moms, that's wrong." The man didn't argue him on that.

By his sixth pageant, they decided to try low glitz. Eren was absolutely delighted. Fake eyelashes, (even more) fake hair, and he almost cried in glee when Carla said he could have fake nails.

('Make them round', she told the amused manicure, 'so he won't take his face off with them.')

The Golden Coast Dolls pageant was one of the hardest Eren has ever been in so far, even with his three months of training under an actual coach (who was visibly disturbed at coaching a boy into being a pageant queen), and he managed to drive himself into a nervous fit, much to Carla's horror. It was his first temper tantrum since they started this, and for 10 minutes while the coach helped him change, Carla was pretty sure he was about to give up.

"Eren?"

"Yes, mommy?" He sniffled, upset beyond belief and trying not to cry, shaking violently.

"You look very pretty." She told him. "Prettier than the others."

He swallowed up the crying, and did his outfit of choice show the best he could.

In that pageant, he got divisional Queen, but somehow Carla's ultra competitive son managed to not feel bad about.

"I just need to calm down next time!"

They never went back to natural pageants, though.

* * *

 

 

Eren was nearing his sixth year when they won their first Ultimate Grand Supreme. It was in that pageant that he met Jean.

He was dressed for the beauty contest, in a red dress (the bodice weighed something around five kilos and he was very proud of all the crystals) that complimented his naturally tan skin, extensions clipped and styled (but not hairspray rigid; hairspray damages hair and those were very expensive extensions), adorned with a big red rose, and make up done so his big green eyes popped out. Carla let him run lose for a while before they called his age division, and he zeroed in a huge bunny plushie. He wanted that.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder, a blond boy, hair slicked back, in a sparkly tux and shiny shoes, holding a purple lily from one of the hotel's flower arrangement, was standing there, super embarrassed.

"Yes?" Eren looked at him, trying to get the other to make eye contact.

"I-- I think you're very pretty!" The other boy all but yelled, blushing visibly through the foundation he wore, and he ran to align with the other four boys.

"Look, mom, I got a flower!" He ran towards his mother, big flower and big smile.

In the boys' beauty contest, Eren stared so hard at the blond boy he tripped over himself. He giggled into his hand and waved at the other boy, who had the dopiest grin on his face and waved right back.

"I think he likes you." Carla commented to her son, who looked at her, confused.

"Does he?"

"He gave you a flower, didn't he? Boys give flowers to the person they like."

"Oh!" Eren covered his mouth, careful not to smear the lip gloss.

After his beauty contest, Eren insisted to take the rose with him. The moment he spotted the blond boy who gave him the lily, he made a bee-line towards him. He tapped the other's shoulder lightly, and when he turned, Eren clipped the flower to the boy's leather jacket.

"I like you, too!" He said happily, smiling and twirling when he turned to hide behind his mother's legs, leaving the blond boy to do the same.

Eren's Movie Outfit was Captain Uhura from the Star Trek III movie, and a completely new choreography that he tried really hard to do right. When he did the turn and shoot (taking down a cardboard lizard man) and didn't fall over, as soon as he stepped down the stage he ran to Carla.

"Mommy, mommy, did you see, I did it!"

"Yes, I saw! Good job, baby."

When they dressed him for the crowning, the first thing Eren did was disappear in the middle of the crowd, just to reappear next to the same blond boy, who immediately matched Eren's red jumper when he noticed him.

"Mom scolded me that I threw the flower at you and didn't ask your name." The blond boy said, ashamed.

"I'm Eren!" He said, excited.

"I'm Jean." The other replied, still a little shy, red from head to toe, probably. "You're very pretty." He was looking everywhere for someone to save him, and thankfully the emcee announced the restart of the pageant. "I need to go." He excused himself.

They were calling the boys' category, and Eren kissed the other boy on the cheek and ran back to his own mother, beaming.

"His name is Jean!" He climbed on Carla's lap, kneeling and straining to look over everyone else's heads.

* * *

 

 

Carla never got to meet Jean's mother in that pageant, though, and so they didn't know where he lived so she could arrange playdates. It upset Eren beyond belief, and she ended up having to buy a new iPhone by the end of the week, because, in a rage fit at Siri not being able to find Jean, he threw her cellphone on the wall. Soon after that, school started, and they had to lower their participations in pageants, though in some weekends they did go, but not as much as in the summer. The boy also made new friends, the only children in school who didn't mock him for his clothes (to find out there was a really really ugly temper under all that pink and glitter).

Mikasa was a girl that lived three streets down, a really quiet and shy girl who did three martial arts and was halfway to black belt on all. Armin was a weird, outspoken boy who has read more books in his short reader career than the entire third year class (he was a first year), and who lived halfway across the school district. Carla was pretty sure Eren only had them as friends because their parents didn't tell them a six year old who liked crossdressing was a freak. That was two more friends than Carla thought Eren would get in school, and she was glad.

She also thought she would get called more for Eren punching people, but, much to her disgust, they called her because of Eren's pageant pictures.

"What are you implying, Principal?" She asked, coldly, staring directly into the man's eyes.

"I'm just saying, your son is not a doll, nor a girl, and it is obviously making the other kids uncomfortable..." The man said with an air of superiority. Carla's eye twitched.

"So you think I, a woman with Huntington's disease, am capable of forcing a healthy six year old boy into pageant dresses?"

That gave him pause, but he still answered affirmative.

"Well, sir," she spat sarcastically, "I am not even able of dressing him as it is, first thing this thing did was make me not able of picking up my child. I'm barely able to lift an aluminum pan to the stove, what makes you think I can wrestle my son into a dress?"

"Still, it's not right--"

"You know what's not fucking right? A forty year old man with no kids scold a mother on what's best for her son. He likes those clothes, he handpicked them, he's faster than most girls to get into pageant dresses, so I think you should back off with your prejudiced views and let a child be happy!" She was yelling by the end of it, left hand twitching out of control, like it usually did when her temper snapped. "I don't think you understand how important my son's happiness is for me. I don't think all the parents of this school's children understand how important it is for a child to be happy. And if my son being himself bothers a bunch of shitty people who think their reputation is worth more than their children, they should take a step back and wonder why a boy wearing shorts and a Princess Bubblegum shirt bothers them so much, because the problem surely isn't Eren."

Before she was rendered unable to stand upright, she turned around and slammed the door on her way out. She forgot Eren was sitting on a chair outside, and he was waiting, clutching her phone, Beside him was Grisha, half wearing scrubs, half dressed for the world outside the hospital, putting pressure on Eren's shoulders so his hands numbed and he wouldn't break the barely two months old cellphone.

"Am I in trouble, mommy? I swear, I didn't punch him, I dodged like you said and he fell, he was lying!"

"No, baby. You're not in trouble. But some greasy adults with nothing better to do will be."

"Fu-- Carla, calm down. Eren, put your mom's phone in her bag and let's go home, I'm gonna hold your mom's hand." He said, holding her left hand. "Just ignore them, okay? They're not worth getting upset about, darling."

"I'm just so mad, Grisha. He said I forced Eren into girl clothes!" She was gritting her teeth, shaking in anger, thankfully.

"But... I like pink." Eren paused, confused. "And glitter. And skirts."

"I know, boy." His father stretched out his hand, so Eren could hold it. "Adults are ignorant bigots."

"Adults are meanies." Eren nodded.

The next week, he was enrolled in a private school nearer to his house. He kicked and screamed about it at first, until his mother assured him he could call Armin and Mikasa and invite them for sleepovers.

Since the school had an uniform, Eren had to wear boy's clothes, but nothing in this world would deter him from wearing pink coats, sparkly headbands and glittery converses to class. The brighter side of the snotty private school (that wasn't Carla's first option to educate her son, of course), was that most kids were there in a boarding school regimen, so it was guaranteed they didn't have enough contact with their parents to spout the adults' nocive vitriol at Eren.

"All the people in my class are butts." The boy still reported everyday after school.

* * *

 

 

The first pageants after meeting Jean, Eren started looking for him. It was the first friend he's ever made in pageants, and he missed him like crazy, but after a year, he lost hope. It hurt Carla to see her son so crestfallen and lost. She thanked god one day when they went to compete, when Eren was 10, and he didn't look around everywhere for a blond boy that wasn't there.


	2. You can be my American Boy part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO LAST CHAPTER BEFORE A SMALL HIATUS WHILE I HUNT FOR A NEW LAPTOP
> 
> back to my schedule of 'as soon as i finish' when i find one \õ
> 
> this chapter was written through pain and sweat and with the help of a *vomits* silicon keyboard. which if you need to know, it's exhausting and frustrating.

It was the first pageant his father attended, and the man was as out of place as a person who hasn't slept in two days is from the rest of the world. Grisha was mildly disturbed by the entire ordeal, and nothing perturbed him more than the fact he apparently now had a daughter. People stopped by to congratulate him on how pretty his girl was and Carla had to excuse his confused expression with 'I'm sorry, he came here straight from a two-day shift'.

"But Eren's my son." He complained to his wife for the sixth time that evening.

"We're used to it, honey. They'll say horrible things to him if they know, so let them believe it."

The emcee called the boys to align, and Eren looks at them with the vaguest of interests, when suddenly he lurched forward.

"What happened, boy?" His father asks, a bit concerned.

"Mom, look! It's Jean!"

Carla looked up. There was a blond boy onstage, but she couldn't tell if it was really him.

"Who's Jean?" Grisha asked, yawning.

"A friend. He gave Eren a flower once. I don't think he knows Eren is a boy, but it was cute." She explained.

Well, the name was right. When they called number 27, Jean, Eren almost fell over the next row of chairs. He waved, and watched as the other boy tripped over his own feet, but otherwise didn't let that deter him from being near flawless. Instead, he turned into a peacock onstage, blowing a kiss when he got off the stage, making Eren giggle, and he ran over, excited.

Jean, once again, matched Eren's dress.

"I missed you!" Eren said and Jean took a double take.

"You're a boy?" Jean asked, and regretted it. Eren's eyes looked everywhere but him, and he fidgeted like crazy. "No, no, don't cry, please! I missed you too!"

Eren swallowed the tears, and breathed in.

"Really?"

"Yeah. And even if you're a boy, you're still very pretty!"

"You think so?" He smiled, poking Jean's hand with the tip of his fingers.

"I do! You look like a princess." He tried, and that's more like it, with Eren smiling and those pretty green eyes sparkling. Maybe it had something to do with Jean's stunned tone. The blond boy was getting redder and redder, so he pulled his shiny new cellphone and started playing with it.

"Oh! You have your own phone? That's so cool!" Eren's eyes went wide, and Jean puffed out a bit at being called 'cool'.

"Yeah! Mom got it for me because I won the last pageant. I beat a 14 year old on all the divisionals too." Any mother in the place could see Jean was entering male peacock mode, there, showing off his fine plumage (in this case, his colorful Nokia Lumia and the fact a lot of people think he's good looking) to what they all perceived as a female peacock (but was actually a male paradise bird).

"Mom says I can only have a phone for myself when I learn not to break hers. It's not really working..." He smiled demurely and bit his lip, pulling on the skirt's hem.

"Do you like it? Wearing girl clothes, I mean." Jean asks out of the blue, curiosity winning over.

"They're boy clothes. I'm a boy and I like wearing them, so they're boy clothes." Eren pouted, getting red in the face. Anyone who knew Eren knew that was a sign of his temper rising. He didn't take well to people questioning his clothes.

"Uhh, yeah, but you normally see girls wearing those, not boys. It's not weird?" Jean tries again, blunt like a training sword.

"You're really rude, did you know that?" The brunet crossed his arms, and Jean was saved from being even ruder and earning a punch to the face by his mother.

"Jeany, baby, let's go, we have to change. Oh, who's your pretty lady friend?" Jean's mom was one of those moms that you looked at her and could tell she was a really doting mother. She was a tall, blonde woman, a bit overweight, with round cheeks and a kind smile.

"I'm Eren, nice to meet you!" The boy greeted, smiling, doing a complete 180 from before.

"Oh! It's that pretty girl you gave a flower! You grew up so beautiful, honey!" The woman patted Eren's shoulder, careful not to disturb the hair.

When Eren sat back beside his mother, he had a huge frown on his face.

"What happened, baby?" She turned to him, putting a few locks back in place.

"He's a jerk." He said as explanation.

* * *

 

That newfound fact didn't keep Eren from trying to talk to Jean again between the end of Jean's World Wear contest and Eren's. Though Jean seemed slightly transfixed by Eren's colorful, noisy, glittery and just plain loud attire. Well, anyone would stare at anyone wearing a headwear with golden coins, at least 20 gold, silver and precious stone gems necklaces, puffy pants and long coat in bright colors, the coat having embroidery in gold strings, and leather shoes in also another outrageously bright color.

"What the hell is that?" Jean, ever the American boy, wore a generic lederhosen and feathered fedora. He frowned in obvious shock. He had never in his short life seen something with so many elements look so elegant, but his tone obviously didn't convey that, because the other boy sighed so hard he wheezed a little.

"It's traditional girl clothes from Ankara, dumbass." Eren crossed his arms. "My grandmother is from there, so we dug up my mom's old stuff."

"That's... really cool, actually. I don't even know where that is, but those clothes are really cool." The blond admitted, and Eren beamed.

"It's in Turkey! It's really pretty there, mom and I went visiting grandmother two months ago, in the big city! Grandmother taught me to dance, too!" To exemplify, he did a belly roll. It looked so natural and effortless, like it was no big deal.

"That looked so much better than that girl there." He pointed out to a 18 year old doing the stereotypical odalisk act, but her belly dance game was non-existent compared to Eren's simple movement. When Eren saw the girl, he frowned so deeply Jean was afraid the make-up on his face would crease.

"That's indecent. Grandmother says you only dress like that in your wedding night for your husband, and I say she's right."

"Is it? I thought it was okay."

"Yeah, it's not. And she's not even dancing right, her back is too tense." Eren flipped the fabric of the headpiece back like it was hair.

"Hey, Eren, do you really have long hair?"

"Huh? No, that's extensions. I don't like long hair. Mom's letting me come to crowning with my own hair today, you'll see it!"

"Jean, let's change!" They heard Jean's mom yell in the background.

"Uh... Good luck with your presentation." Jean hesitated a little, then kissed Eren on the cheek and ran, leaving behind a stunned boy in loud clothing and a silly smile on his face.

"What are you smiling about, son?" Grisha asked when Eren sat back to wait his age division to be called, suspicious.

"He's a jerk, but he's a nice jerk." Was all he got from Eren.

"Carla, our son likes this Jean boy." He turned to his wife, looking every bit skeptical over his son's taste in people.

"Do I detect a bit of judgement in your tone, Grisha?" She teased, smiling and shaking her head.

"Hell yeah you do. Who's this boy? What's his plans for the future? What are his intentions with my baby boy? Does he vote Democrat or Republican? He could be a serial killer for all we know." The man huffed, grimacing. "I don't work 70 hour shifts and didn't marry the perfect woman and have the perfect little son so some blond boy in ridiculous german shorts come and treat my boy like less than he deserves."

"You're sleep deprived, honey. He's eleven. Jean, I mean. I think it's a tad too early to start thinking of marriage. Child brides are illegal in the USA." She pointed out, amused. "Eren, won't you brush out the routine?" She turned to her son over her husband, losing balance due to a spasm and Grisha catching her easily.

It was about routine in these last months. They had fall-proofed the entire house and whatever couldn't be made of fluffy carpet was custom made of rubber (Eren's college fund had suffered, but even according to Eren, suffering a little later on was worth it). They had also hired a professional woodcarver to make all points in the wooden furniture round and still match the house's decor. They did the changes in the house and went about life like nothing happened. She was glad for having them. She doesn't think she could handle people acting like she was made of glass.

"Grandmother says you don't practice where people you're trying to beat can see." He replied, hand still where Jean kissed him.

"You go stretch then, go put fear in those fake odalisks' hearts, Eren." Grisha patted his son's shoulder. "I don't wanna deal with you thinking that just because I'm a doctor, I can fix a sprained ankle later."

"You suck, dad." Eren complained, but obeyed, starting out slow, sitting on the ground with his legs straight and parallel in front of him and faceplanting on his shins. "I don't wanna do it."

"Do it or you'll sprain your ankle like that one time in badminton." Carla warned.

Eren didn't get up, but stretched his arm, pulling his right elbow to the left side of his head, then did the opposite.

"Now get up and stretch your back." She commanded, and the boy groaned.

"Yeah, okay, mom, but I can't do a bridge with the headpiece." He pulled it out and set it on his seat, and bent backwards, and kept bending until his hands touched the ground next to his feet. "Dad, can I join the cheerleading squad when I'm in high school? I don't like badminton anymore."

"How are you even talking, my back hurts for you, my son."

"He did Beyoncé's Single Ladies two months ago and sang the entire song, I don't think he cares about your bad back, honey. Eren, come here, they're aligning."

With the headpiece in place, Eren bounced to the stage, coins jingling.

"Uhm." The couple heard a little voice, and turned to see a beetroot red blond boy in a sleek black suit. "You're Eren's mom, right?"

"Yes--"

"She is, and I'm Eren's father. Who are you?" The man glared at the 11-year-old over the top of his wife's head.

"Don't listen to him, he's being silly. You're Jean, right? Eren talked about you a lot." Half her attention was on the stage. Mariska, number 25 was on, doing a really stereotypical russian girl impression onstage.

"Uh, I'm gonna get my mom, she wanted to talk to you." He disappeared as Mariska went off stage and Alyssaundra, number 59 got in, wearing a ridiculous feathered thing that was supposed to be a Brazilian carnival costume. Carla hoped Toddlers and Tiaras would be all up that like they were up Eren when one of the show's crew found out he was a boy (she declined them every time they asked after that).

"So much for child brides being illegal in the States." Grisha commented.

"Excuse me, you're Eren's mom, right?" Carla turned and saw Jean's mom standing there, holding her son's hand.

"Yes, I'm Carla. And you're...?" She asked, smiling nicely.

"Miriam, Jean's mother. Oh, sorry, they're calling him now." She took a seat, and Jean kneeled onto his chair, marveled. "He's very good."

"He trained for it a lot... You're not calling my son a girl." Grisha pointed out.

"Well, my son says he's a boy, and Jean's not prone to lying." Miriam shrugged.

"Yeah, Eren's... special. He's always been good at being himself." Carla said fondly as Eren almost barrelled into her.

"Did you see, mom? Did you see, dad?" He beamed, and then looked around. "Oh! Did you see, Jean?! I did it all like grandmother taught me to!"

"That was very good indeed, darling. Doesn't that outfit weigh a lot?" Miriam asked, curious.

"It does! The headpiece has a lot of gold coins, and the coat weighs a ton!" He whined, taking the mentioned pieces off, leaving only the deep purple pants, red leather shoes and a bright sky blue chemise. The coat was a strong burgundy with gold embroidered tulips.

"They're very bright colors you have there." Miriam noted, analyzing the green and beige headpiece.

"It means we're rich!" The boy exclaimed.

"What he means, is that my family comes from old, important lineage." Carla corrected. "Meaning we have old money, from the Ottoman Empire times. The fabric is hand woven and traditionally dyed, and those natural dyes are really expensive. They're worn to show the importance of our family, although in America they're just really bright and weird."

"Grandmother said our family comes from nobles related to the old Emperor." Eren nodded.

"Anne says a lot." His mom agreed.

"Must be nice to have all this culture and traditions, really. My family came with the french in the north. Vive la republique Canadienne and long live the Queen, or something." The blonde woman smiled, and Grisha rolled his eyes.

"It's all fun and games until you have to get used to turkish style houses and dealing with a turkish mother-in-law." He got a slap for his troubles. "What? It's true! I still get hate mail from your mother. Apparently she thinks I'm not a worthy husband, and that I'm not providing enough, and is not afraid to tell me just how much I disappoint her as a son-in-law."

"Grandmother says she's gotta keep you walking straight." Eren patted his father's shoulder in solidarity.

"So, Jean said you had something to talk to me?" Carla put an end to the discussion pulling both her boys' ears.

"Yeah. I figured since they seemed to get along that they could do talent routines sometimes. I know Eren seems to do only glitz pageants, but--"

"No, it's okay, I'm sure it won't be a problem." Carla smiles. "We should exchange numbers, really, this silly little thing broke my old phone when Siri couldn't find Jean."

"Mom!" Eren yelled, blushing, as the two women laughed quietly and registered each other in their contacts lists.

"Excuse us, though, we have to change for the crowning." Grisha stood up when Carla said that, helping her up. When they were sufficiently away from Miriam, he turned to his wife.

"The lab says they're ready to start testing phase 2 if you are, but Jackson said he wants to get you in physical therapy for a week before starting. He said something about neuron firing speeds, but I don't remember. You'd have to call him later."

"I will. I don't mind doing a week of physical therapy, though. I felt, before I had Eren, when I went to the gym, I felt like the crazy arms were more controllable."

"Mom, can I get a phone? I swear I'll take care of it." Eren said when the elevator pinged and the doors swung open.

"Eren, we talked about this." She said, sternly.

"But mom! I need one to talk to Jean! He has one!" He protested, pressing their floor button.

"Eren, we're talking about important stuff, here." His father said, pulling the boy's ear.

"Ouch! But dad, it is important! you two have been talking about important stuff to you two for a week!" He whined.

"And we took you to pageants for years, doesn't that count?" Carla tried to pull Eren's ear, but her hand's strength faltered, so the boy pulled his own ear.

"Yeah, but we don't talk about anymore, do we?" He said as if he won the argument.

"Eren, even if I agreed on giving you a phone, the operators discontinued support to the only phone I'd give you." The man pulled Eren's other ear.

"But, daaaaaaaaaad," Eren whined louder.

The elevator stopped and the door swung open again. Eren stalked to the room, angry. He respectfully took off the clothing and angrily proceeded to pull on his crowning clothing (a bedazzled obnoxiously jade green summer dress and a matching pair of flats).

"Baby, remember what we talked about the other day? You can have a phone when mine turns two months old without any Eren-caused damage." Carla motioned and Eren pulled a stool to sit in front of his dad.

"I know, but mom, it's bigger than that!"

Grisha starts brushing his son's hair and wondering when it had gotten that long. Eren's hair was almost shoulder length, silky and thin like a small child's.

"Just brush it back and pin it with this barrette. Consider this belated punishment for breaking my screen and the function button when you overloaded it."

"Mooooooooooooom! How am I supposed to talk to him? He's probably all cool and has skype and facebook!"

"You can be all cool too when you learn that smartphones aren't disposable, young man." She chastised, and Eren's back tensed. "Eren?"

"... I don't like when you call me that." He muttered, confused a bit. "Feels wrong."

She looked at Grisha to find him looking at her with the same questioning look she was giving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING PLS LEAVE KUDOS AND COMMENTS IF YOU WANT OWO


	3. Mirror, mirror, on the wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FEW NOTES
> 
> I'M SO FUCKING SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY UGH  
> i'm hailing from the 30 minutes i fished from typing up essays about how crazy byzantium was, why the dark ages were only dark in western europe, and completely bullshitting a philosophy essay because i hate it. hello this is your neighbourhood friendly writer saying I ACTUALLY AM GONNA FINISH THIS.
> 
> Warning: May cause cavities.

The room was teeming with mothers and children in sparkly dresses; some weren't even able to walk yet. The boys' category aligned for crowning just a bit earlier, and Jean sported a king's crown. Eren went straight to him again, and he turned as red as a tomato.

 

"What?" Eren asked. His mom had scrubbed his face free from most of the make up and he had no wig on. So he felt pretty ordinary, and didn't quite understand Jean's reaction.

 

"You're like, real?"

 

Again, Jean spoke without thinking. He seemed to make a habit out of it near Eren.

 

"What? Of course I'm real! What did you think I was, a djinn?" The boy crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.

 

"Frick, no, like... You're still very pretty without all those things and stuffs. Like, princess pretty."

 

"Dummy."

 

"You're cute even when you're mad at me."

 

"Am not. I think you need glasses over there." Now it was Eren's turn to blush horribly.

 

"Not that I want to see you mad at me. I really wanna be your friend."

 

"You're silly." Eren gave the other a tentative smile.

 

"No, I'm the king. And I decree that you will believe me when I say that you're cute." Jean nodded, so proud of his own wit.

 

"You'll see, I'll get the biggest crown and then you can't tell me what to do anymore."

 

By the end of the pageant, Eren was carrying a trophy bigger than himself, a pink bag with gifts and on his head was a giant pink crown with a huge "W" in obnoxious blue crystals.

 

"See! I'm a queen! You can't tell me what to do anymore!" He yelled triumphantly.

 

"More like _beauty_ queen." Jean said, reddening, reading something off his phone.

 

"Dang right! Are you talking to someone?" He put his big trophy down and leaned over Jean's shoulder to read what was in his messages.

 

"With my best friend. He said to send him messages from the pageant, so I sent him the one I took from you onstage with the crown and he said you were a beauty queen." Jean blushed some more.

 

"That's me! I'm a beauty queen!" Eren giggled and kissed Jean on the cheek. "Give that to your friend, okay?"

 

Grisha and Carla were sitting down at a distance, watching as Eren carried the enormous trophy to them.

 

"He sure is happy to see that Jean boy." Grisha commented.

 

"Told you."

 

"I don't like it." He put emphasis on the negation.

 

"You don't have to like it." She admonishes.

 

The man sighs and pauses a little.

 

"It's not that. I don't like that he's growing up. It's too fast and it makes me anxious."

 

"Why anxious?" Carla turned to face him.

 

"He's our baby."

 

"He'll always be our baby."

 

"Until the day he decides he isn't anymore."

 

"He can't live with us forever. One day you left the nest too, didn't you?"

 

"But does it have to slap me on my face?"

 

"Oh my god. Grisha, he's 10. Most pessimist guess, he's leaving at 18 for college." She kissed her husband's face, and got a childish 'eeeeeeeeeeeew' in reaction.

 

Eren was in front of them, pretending to be disgusted.

 

"That's gross." He said, before sitting beside his dad; on his mother's other side was sleeping an obsessive pageant mother.

 

"I'll give you gross, you hypocritical little sh- thing." The man took off Eren's crown, placing it on his wife's head, and Eren screamed, laughing, as his father tried to get him for a noogie.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Mika! Armin!" He barreled into a three-way hug with his best friends.

 

"How was the pageant?" Mikasa asked, a little anxious with anticipation to know.

 

"Ultimate Grand Supreme!" Eren yelled, jumping. "Oh! And I met Jean again!" He smiled large at the thought.

 

"Are you going to marry him?" Armin asked shaking her head.

 

"No!" He giggled. "But he gave me a kiss." Eren whispered like a secret.

 

" _EW!_ " Both of his friends exclaimed.

 

"But he's a boy!" Mikasa complained.

 

"So am I." Eren protested.

 

"No, like," Armin interjected, "you're a different kind of boy. You're more like me than this Jean boy, I bet!"

 

"Is there a different way to be a boy?" Eren asked, confused.

 

"Well, boys don't wear girl clothes."

 

"It's boy clothes!" He told Armin, pursing his lips.

 

"No, they're girl clothes. Girls like Mika and I wear dresses!" Armin shouted.

 

"I wear dresses too!"

 

"Shut up!" Mikasa screamed so loud and forcefully that the teenager next door turned off his misogynistic songs.

 

"Eren's dresses are boy dresses, Armin and I's dresses are girl dresses. Are we done?"

 

Both kids nodded. They've seen her throw her 12 year old cousin over her shoulder this month, they didn't want to participate in a replay.

 

"Good. Mom made cookies, someone wants one?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later, when the Jaegers were taking Armin back home, the girl turned to her friend.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Huh?"

 

"About the clothes thing. I shouldn't have said that. It was mean."

 

"I forgave you, though. Like, five minutes later."

 

"It's just... Grandpa isn't... He doesn't get it, and Mom and Dad are never home like yours are. And he says I'm a boy and that you're being a terrible influence."

 

"You'll always be the prettiest pretty girl to me, okay?" He gave Armin a kiss on the cheek.

 

"Eeeewwww, boy cooties!" She made a show of wiping off the kiss, smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

"I still don't believe your girlfriend is a boyfriend." Marco laughed.

 

"He's not my boyfriend, okay! He's a friend. A very cute friend." Jean replied, not looking up from his Pokemon battle with someone called 'Dejah'.

 

"A very cute friend, huh?" Marco teased.

 

"A very cute friend with very green eyes." Jean nodded.

 

"You're not even ashamed to call a boy cute."

 

The blond boy shrugs.

 

"I call it like I see it. And you called him beauty queen. Don't even start." He finished off Dejah's Lopunny and did a critical hit on her Xerneas.

 

"Yeah, but like... Shouldn't he be competing with you?"

 

"No. Did you look at him? How many chances you think any of us would have if he competed against boys? Let him compete with the girls." Jean shook his head as Dejah dropped the battle, closing his DS and picking up his notebook, going back to his doodle.

 

"With his equals."

 

"In cuteness, yes. Marco, he's so cute and angry."

 

"You talk about little else, really, lately. You got a boyfriend, Jean got a boyfriend! I'm gonna tell everyone in our grade you got a boyfriend!" Marco clapped his hands, laughing, delighted.

 

"Marco, _no!_ " Jean screamed in horror. "He's not my boyfriend, he's just this cute boy I met and who's probably my ticket to avoiding competing in pageants forever because I'll just be his talent partner."

 

"You sound happy. You so like him." The brunet freckled boy patted him on the back. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you just drew him."

 

"Frick."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jean completely loved it. The freedom that came with being Eren's pageant partner. It wasn't like his mom was putting him in pageants before for the money, anyways. Sure, it still meant going to more pageants than he would like to, but at least he only went to the stage once after a while.

 

He also got to see Eren more often, which was also a plus, since he lived in the Upper East Side, New York City, and Eren was a Viking hailing from Duluth, Minnesota. It was really way too far for two children who couldn't travel by themselves yet. So when they were together, they ended up being in each other's personal spaces as often as they could (Eren in New York) and sometimes as close as humanly possible (Jean in Duluth. C'mon it's cold!), culminating, in the first week of winter break, in them sleeping in the same bed, cuddling. They had a whisper argument about 'arm tetris', until finally falling asleep, spooning, after Eren got mad at Jean and turned around, finding the position rather optimal for sharing Eren's single bed.

 

(And if Jean stealthily buried his nose in Eren's hair and fell asleep to the soft scent of tutti fruti, no one needs to know.)

 

When Jean was 12 and Eren just turned 11, Jean had a terribad idea.

 

"You ever wondered how kissing feels like?" He asked, and the brunette looked at him. Just a neutral look.

 

"No." After a pause, Eren blushed. "Maybe."

 

"What would you do if I kissed you?"

 

"Shove you off the bench and put so much snow on your head." Eren replied, kicking snow with his Hello Kitty pink boots.

 

"Hey, Eren..." Jean started, looking at that hideous combination of red pea coat, green princess dress with matching petticoat, lilac stockings embellished with crystals and the aforementioned pink boots.

 

The exact moment Eren turned, annoyed, Jean leaned in and kissed the other boy on the lips.

 

What happened next was Eren freezing up in surprise before pressing his lips in response on Jean's, and pulling away to kick him on the snow bank beside the bench, laughing at the absolutely ridiculous surprise in Jean's face when he resurfaced from all that snow.

 

"Told you."

 

"I hope you get covered in zits when you turn into a teenager." The blond cursed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Unwittingly, Jean prepared the terrain for the day Eren ran into his parents' room, crying.

 

"What happened, baby?" Carla asked, sleepy.

 

"I...!" He spoke, a little different from his usual soft, childlike voice, a little deeper. "See! That's the problem!"

 

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm still asleep..."

 

"My voice is doing this weird-- weird thing where it sometimes it gets squeaky and sometimes it gets more like Jean's, and I don't like it, I don't like it..." And the boy broke down crying and sobbing.

 

"Eren, you're just growing up. It's normal."

 

That evoked horror images from the older kids in his school: oily hair, zits all over, cuts on their faces for trying to mimic their dads, but more horrifying of all to Eren, Thomas. Thomas was 13 and in his class, being held back two years over his dyslexia. He had oily, unkempt hair, a greasy face full of zits, his arms looked far too long for his body, wore braces and his looks inhabited Eren's nightmares. He had been okay with voice changes, Jean's smooth transition had made them look cool, until he saw Thomas.

 

That and Eren took curses very seriously, like his grandmother taught him, so he started thinking what he would look like older, and all he saw was Thomas. With looks like that, what would happen to the pageants? The poor boy had started measuring his own self worth on how high he placed in the beauty contests, and not looking cute anymore, even in a theoretical plane, took its toll on Eren's psyche.

 

"I don't-- I don't wanna grow up and get zitty and ugly!" He suddenly shouted into the stillness of the house.

 

"It's okay, baby. We'll talk to dad tomorrow."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Grisha, it's happening." She told the tired man when he got home, while Eren was still in class.

 

"What?" He muttered, hanging his coat on the back of the bar stool, his suitcase sitting on the ground beside him

 

"He woke me up yesterday, crying about not wanting to grow up because he doesn't want to get ugly."

 

"Carla, that could mean so many things."

 

"I don't see how?"

 

"Could just be those pageants getting to his head." The man pointed out, flopping on the marble service table between dinner room and kitchen.

 

"I don't know. Should we look into therapists?"

 

"Maybe. I could ask Polanski. She's been dying to talk to Eren ever since she saw the Best Personality trophy in my office."

 

"So that's where it went!" She hit his shoulder with a wooden spoon. "He thinks he's lost it!"

 

"Sorry, but I needed it. I tell so many horror stories about his temper tantrums, they needed to see that my son is actually an all-American boy."

 

"I refuse to dignify that with a recognizance."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"What are you so chipper about? You've apologized more to me today than in the last fifteen years. And I'm not counting the times Anne made you." She pointed out, serving him a huge mug of coffee.

 

"So you know Mark Bittencourt, from oncology? He sent me a video of a guy hammering nails in with one of those Nokia smartphones."

 

"That video is literally five years old, honey."

 

"Yes, but it doesn't detract from the fact it is still following the Ancient Finnish tradition of Adamantium cellphones. So," he leaned down and pulled a pink box from his suitcase, "I got one for Eren. Hopefully he won't break it and I'll be able to call you after eight."

 

"Oh, god, his eight o'clock calls! They're so, so silly, it's so cute! He just talks his head off in front of his mirror putting on his crowns and sometimes sitting down to play something in his laptop."

 

"I just realized this might actually save money, since I got him a prepaid number."

 

Carla just shook her head, preparing Eren's chai. It was a little over 3PM, so he was bound to be home anytime now.

 

"You know you'll just end up buying him a thousand dollars in credits, because you can't stand seeing him sad, right?"

 

Grisha shrugged.

 

"It's the thought that counts."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE ALL OF YOU PLEASE LEAVE KUDOS AND COMMENT I'LL MAKE AN EFFORT TO BRING THE NEXT CHAPTER IN A TIMELY FASHION
> 
> ps: Arms came out in a cutscene I DO intend to write but i felt like it deserved its own fic so i can explore the exact depth of the bond those three forged. expect it in the winmin tag since it'll be a three chapter thing like 'past/present/future' kinda thing yaaaaassss  
> it's gonna be written 
> 
> pps: I know brunette is female, but here's the thing: in this fanfic, Eren uses he/him pronouns but also will, in a scene that is already written, ask to be called female nouns and adjectives (except for boy. he likes that one). 
> 
> ppps: Jean is, as seen, very gone for the trash brand baby femme aesthetic. it's bright and attention grabbing and neon like a poisonous small animal and Jean is a dangerous boy.


	4. hapy fucking new year from a drunken author

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title says it all i drunk sm vodka HAPPY NEW YEAR AND THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS STORY

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] Jean, Jean! I got a phone now!

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] Mom told me to tell you this is Eren.

[to: Eren] Kinda figured, since the only other person who txt me is Marco

[from: Eren] Loner. My parents text me and so do Army and Mika. I can't believe you're such a loser! :)

[to: Eren] Wow fuck u. Ill have u kno that im super cool

[to: Eren] All gurls wanna txt me

[to: Eren] Includin u <3

[from: Eren] You type like a savage.

[to: Eren] Do not. I typ lik a teen u old man

[from: Eren] Not a man. I type like someone who actually pays attention to what they're writing, unlike you.

[to: Eren] Wowowowow purist. Ill have u kno that ur condemnin a perfectly natural linguistic evo. U cant just give an eviolite to language, it gotta evolve.

[from: Eren] Wow nerd.

[to: Eren] FUCK U. U HAVE THE SAME POKEMON GAMES AS ME, U HYPOCRITE.

[from: Eren] I do, don't I. And I'm better than you at them, too.

[to: Eren] I let u win. Bc ur a sore loser and i want u to lik me

[from: Eren] Uh huh. Turn off game chat then. I'm pretty sure yelling configures to losing.

[to: Eren] No fuq u I was lettin u

[to: Eren] I was being a gentleman

[to: Eren] W8 u sendin this w Lumia msgr u got a Lumia 2?

[from: Eren] Yes! Lumia 920! It's pink! :)

[to: Eren] Ur cute.

[to: Eren] Ofc its pink ur entire room is pink

[from: Eren] Screw you though, dad got it for me.

[to: Eren] Everyone knows u lik everything pink

[from: Eren] NO. I like purple too.

[to: Eren] Wow such different, much contrast.

[from: Eren] Shut up. I gotta go but this isn't over.

* * *

 

Eren called Jean that night, at eight at night as promised.

"Not all my things are pink you whippersnapper."

"Hello to you too, beauty queen. I've been okay, though school is killing me. How are you?"

"Cut the crap, Kirstein. I'm mad at you." Eren snapped into his headphone speaker, crossing his arms, sitting on his pink Pinkie Pie bed cover, on his pink canopy bed in his very pink bedroom. "Not all my stuff are pink, alright. I got like, ten pageant dresses and none are pink."

"Admit it, Eren, you're technically Turkish Barbie. It's cute."

"I'm gonna shoot you in the head." The boy threatened.

"I'm not afraid of you, princess." The other teased, laughing.

Eren sighed loudly.

"I can't stay mad at you when you call me princess. I like it too much."

"Honeybuns, I can keep calling you princess for as long as you want, ok?"

"I'd rather be referred to as his royal highness." He joked.

"Beauty Queen of the world." Jean offered.

"That too. When are you coming so we can practice the foxtrot routine for next month's pageant again?"

"Mom said I should be flying out Friday after my school lets out, so Friday night?" Jean said, uncertain. "If the flight doesn't get delayed, that is. I read online that there might be ice in the runway, so they'd delay for like, an hour."

"Ah. So tomorrow. Because today is Thursday."

"Yeah. Thanks." They stay silent for a while, listening each other's breathing. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

Jean arrived late that next night, and Eren had fallen asleep home when his parents got back. Jean woke him up by jostling his bed when he climbed in to sleep as well.

"Hey." Eren greeted, sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, Eren." Jean said, kicking bedcovers and trying to make himself comfortable.

"Yesterday I had an appointment with a therapist. Today I'm gonna see a doctor to stop being a teenager." The brunette told him, yawning.

"You gonna be cute forever?" He asked, as Eren turned around and Jean cuddled up to him.

"Yup." Eren replied, but sounded more asleep than awake.

He woke up with Eren's head on Jean's chest, his left hand on the blond's neck, the slightly long nails scratching softly at his scalp when he moved. It felt nice. Eren smelled like roses and lavender, and Jean buried his nose in the other's hair.

A soft snore and a yawn let him know Eren woke up.

"Good morning, princess. Did you sleep well?"

"Mhm." He yawned, untangling his legs from Jean's and sitting up. His shoulder length hair was sticking out everywhere. Jean pulled him down by his black Hello Kitty pajamas and kissed his cheek noisily. "Noooo, we need to get up! I gotta help mom with breakfast!"

"Uuughhh, go then." He opened his arms, defeated. "It's too early to be up, what time is it, five?"

"Six actually." Eren said, checking on his phone before throwing it on the bed and taking his pajama shirt off, following quickly with a short sleeved loose blue shirt and purple slippers.

"Can you make me some froot loops with cream? I'll be down in... Half an hour."

Eren glared from the door.

"You have five minutes." He heard his mother tell his father exactly the same thing from her bedroom door.

Carla looked at her son from across the corridor.

"Useless."

"Men are completely useless." He nodded in agreement, waiting for his mother to catch up to him at the stairs.

"Always late, never wanting to wake up. I swear to god, I'm gonna sit him down and make him eat if he gets here running." She complained, going down step by step slowly.

"He tried to convince me to cuddle back in bed." Eren offered and his mother looked at him from her stilted steps downstairs.

"You're too young to be complaining about useless men, Eren."

"According to Armin, you're never too young to complain about guys." He retorted. "Guys are useless 100% of the time."

"She speaks the truth." Carla resumes her descent down the second and shorter flight of stairs, and Eren runs down after her. "Showoff."

He stuck his tongue out and the woman laughed.

"I'm gonna run the coffee maker, mom. Do you need anything?" The boy called out, dragging a chair so he could reach the machine easier.

"Not for now, just gonna cut up some fruit to make a juice. You can start the bread maker, though. I'm gonna make soup tonight."

"Yes!"

Eren had a special relationship with the bread making machine. He didn't like French bread and thought premade bread tasted too stale. So when his grandmother gave them the electronic, he promptly learned all the bread recipes in the leaflet that came with the manual, and made a new loaf every two days or so. His all-time favorite was the butter bread. And if he put more butter than strictly necessary, well, it wasn't like his family was complaining either.

Eren was flipping on the coffee maker when his dad resurfaced from his bedroom, holding a pink and purple tulip glittery necessaire in a transparent gift box.

"What is that?" He asked, turning to the pantry to get the dry ingredients for the bread.

"I got it from Polanski before I left the hospital yesterday. It's a padded bag. Also I just remembered. The appointment with Andersen is at 10, before your hour at the dance hall, so I think we should bring Jean."

"But why would I need a padded bag, dad?" Eren puts the flour on the counter and lines the other dries before heading to the refrigerator to get the wets.

"Well, if I remember correctly, histrelin is both a daily injection and a subcutaneous implant. I think Andersen and Polanski will try the injections before moving on to the implant?" He said thoughtfully. "If they were to try leuprolide acetate, the bag wouldn't be needed."

"Why?" Carla asked, as Eren was occupied lining up the wet ingredients precisely.

"Monthly injections. To be honest, I have no idea what they're planning."

"I'm gonna put this stuff here and dump water on Jean. His five minutes are up." Eren commented, carefully cracking the eggs on the measuring cup and dumping them on the flour nest.

"Leave the poor boy to sleep, Eren. I swear, your mother and you are running a boot camp here." Grisha chastised, yawning. "Teenagers need to sleep until at least eight, let him be."

"Not in this house." Carla and Eren replied at the same time.

"I'm going to wake him now." The boy announced, closing the bread maker and turning it on. As if thinking again, he turned on his perch on the chair and threw the eggshells in the organic bin, wrapped the butter, turned the glass he used upside down in the sink, closed the flour jar and cleaned his workspace before putting away the ingredients. "Mom, can I have a bowl of water?"

"For what?" She asked, suspicious.

"For wetting my hand so I can flick water on his face."

“He's your son, now, Carla.” Grisha told his wife, shaking his head, as she obliged, handing Eren a plastic bowl with a finger of water.

Eren ran upstairs, bouncing, one hand in the bowl to wet his fingers as much as he could, and opening his door silently. He watched Jean sleep soundly and put the bowl on the nightstand, crawling slowly onto bed, carefully keeping the drops of water on his hand. When he reached optimal flicking position, he flicked water onto the unsuspecting boy's face.

“I'M AWAKE, MOM!” Jean yelled, alarmed, jumping upright.

Eren nearly choked on his own laughter. Jean took a while to reorient himself, and, finding the source of his rude awakening, tackled him and kissed his face mercilessly as Eren squealed.

“You-- are-- so-- mean!” He informed the laughing child, hugging him and flopping back on the bed.

“Am not. You're just lazy. Learn to get up by yourself and I won't throw water on you again.”

“You're not my mom.” The older boy told him, rolling his eyes, and kissing Eren's lips for good measure.

At that, Eren shoved his wet hand on Jean's face.

“Ew! What was that for? What did I do now?” He flailed, wiping the strips of water off his face.

“You kissed me! Why did you do it?”

“Because mom told me that's what you do when you think a girl is pretty!” Jean retorted.

“You think I'm pretty? You really do?” Eren asked, dripping sarcasm. As if Jean didn't tell him those precise words nearly every day. Still, he blushed; it was always nice to hear it.

"Well, I'm 12, I don't have the sufficient Shakesperean and Byronean knowledge to sufficiently praise you."

Eren kicked him off the bed.

* * *

 

It was obvious Eren was out to impress by seven thirty, when they were scheduled to leave. He was wearing his new bell shaped skirt with his flashiest coat on top of his shirt, and black and white striped stockings with his pinkest winter boots.

Jean was supremely understated next to Eren, looking every bit the New Yorker with his combat boots and pea coat over jeans and several layers of undershirts bought in the female department and a sweater. Eren called him a Miami lizard. Jean called Eren the Snow Queen. Only one of the insults was an actual insult.

"We all ready to go?" Carla asked, pulling Eren by the ear lightly until he put on a scarf (and Jean wisely pulled one on).

"Headcount of four, yes, we are." Grisha told her.

"So, what are we doing?" The blonde boy asked, tilting his neck up for Carla's scarf inspection.

"Eren isn't comfortable going through being a teenager, so we're gonna stall it until he is." Grisha explained, patting himself on specific parts of his garments as if doing a headcount of his keys and wallet.

"How so?" He asked, curiously. He remembered Eren talking about that before they went to sleep, but the other boy didn't explain how, so he was stuck wondering.

"We're going to the endocrinologist, Doctor Andersen, and he's going to examine Eren and run blood tests, and depending on his health, he either will have to get better and go back, or he'll get out with a prescription or an implant appointment." The man explained. "Either way, he'll be taking a medicine that I don't fully know how it works, because unlike you two think, I'm not a general doctor, I'm a geneticist specialized in putting babies together for people and treating genetic diseases." He said, contempt with his fate.

* * *

 

Henrik Andersen was a stocky guy in his mid-40s, well kept beard and short hair, and a tattoo sleeve peeking from his lab coat sleeve. Jean was impressed by the guy, and a bit jealous, because Eren was acting shy around the guy. He found himself hoping that Eren was just shy, and not shy because he thought the guy was cool. Jean was too young to grow beards yet. Or to get tattoos.

“So there's Grisha's little princess! How's it going, sweetheart?”

Jean didn't like this guy.

“I'm okay.” Eren said, looking intently at his boots.

“Just okay? Well, then!” He smiled, arranging a syringe and sample flasks. “I'll need you to get on the chair there so I can collect blood for the tests so we can know if everything is working ok?”

Eren hesitated.

“Wasn't this why dad made me? So I'd be healthy?”

Jean looked at Eren curiously; he never heard that one.

“Yes, but there are problems that happen that not even genetic screening can prevent. So we test you to see if you're having any problem, like allergies, hormonal disregulations that blocking one hormone would show... The list goes on.” The doctor put a pink ribbon on the vials. “Here we go, so the guys at the lab will know whose blood this is. So, can I take some blood samples?”

Eren hesitated again, but nodded. He sat obediently on the chair, and stuck his right arm out.

“Damn it, Grisha, you didn't tell me your kid's veins did the thing.”

Carla was trying not to laugh and Jean watched fascinated as the doctor tried to get the access' needle close to the vein that simply danced in a defense mechanism.

“You say it as if genetic engineering is already at the point where I can code my own child's DNA.” The man grumbled as Dr. Andersen called a nurse, who simply watched for five seconds before stabbing with pinpoint accuracy and securing it.

“Thank you, Silvia.” The bearded man called, in awe. “So here, I'll grab six vials and send them to the lab, you should get the results back after midday, so by one you should be getting your first monthly shot. We're gonna be treating you with Lupron Depot PED, which is for kids.”

“You're not gonna use histrelin? That's what you gave that other kid, Arlert.” Grisha asked.

“Armin was here? Is she okay? She keeps canceling meeting with Mika and I.” Eren beamed, happy to hear about his friend.

“Armin is okay, she's just a bit... shaken. She's been really bad when her parents brought her in.” Dr. Andersen said, collecting the second vial. “Her mental state was worse than just not wanting to be a teenager. She hurt herself trying to correct herself to fit her image of a girl.”

“Oh.” Eren sat in silence, looking and not really seeing, lost in thought. When the doctor finished taking the samples, he raised his head. “I'm a bad friend, ain't I.”

“Why do you think that, honey?” Carla asked, confused.

“I should have called her more often to tell her she's the most pretty of all.”

“I wouldn't blame you for that, Eren. Transfeminine people aren't all as chill as you. Sometimes they get a thing called dysphoria, that makes them think they're in the wrong body. You're not responsible for what she sees in the mirror.” Dr. Andersen pulls the needle out and places a cotton ball on the boy's arm. “Hold this tight for a minute. Though you can help, I heard you like make up. Bring some to Armin's place. Cheer her up a bit.”

“After coming back, can we go to Armin's place, dad? I promise we'll take care in the bus.”

Grisha raised an eyebrow and Carla made a face.

“Did you ask him if he wanted to go meet Armin, Eren?” She admonished.

“Nah, Mrs. Jaeger, I don't mind. He's been pushing me around for a year now, I can handle meeting his friends.”

Dr. Andersen was thoroughly amused.

“I didn't know they married this young in Turkey.” He commented, casually ( _too_ casually) filling out the exam forms.

“Shut up, Henrik. Go bother Alice about it.” Grisha flipped his too happy colleague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE YOU ALL  
> i know it's shorter than i promised on tumblr but i'm also drunk af so


	5. In which Eren is an Armin fangirl and Jean is technically a doting husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told someone i'd update by 8PM. I lied. i just cannot go on without giving this beauty to you all right now.
> 
> Back to our semi-regular updates with a decently-sized chapter!
> 
> This chapter is sponsored by Beauty Blender (TM)  
> that shit is really really good ok
> 
> Also sponsoring this chapter is TLC, thank you for airing Toddlers And Tiaras and What Not To Wear.

The rehearsal was almost useless.

Eren was too jittery about his surprise makeover at Armin's. Jean was too nervous about meeting a girl from Eren's friend group. Ultimately, the coach gave up, and Eren started listing all of Armin's qualities.

If Eren's laundry list was to be believed, Armin was truly indeed an amazing girl.

“She's a fairy.” Was how Eren summed up his friend. “You'll like her, I promise.” He said as they were eating lunch, at a sushi joint near the lake. Eren managed to thoroughly disgust Jean by submerging his tuna sashimi in soy sauce, and Jean thoroughly disgusted Eren by putting a generous amount of wasabi on his rolls.

“I know I'll like her, if I can put up with you I can put up with anyone.” Jean pointed out, and Eren made an offended noise.

“Excuse you! I'm a delight!”

Carla laid her chopsticks down and turned around, while Grisha snorted and choked on his temaki. Jean stared at Eren with a blank face.

“Honey, of course you are.” The older boy said in a condescending tone. A teenage girl tried not to gush and elbowed her boyfriend on the ribs, telling him something to the effect of 'we could be that cute but you're playing'.

“I am. Glad you recognize it.”

“You're something, alright, son.” Grisha commented, coughing a little.

* * *

They made a pit stop in a drug store and the first mall they saw, and Carla and Grisha watched amused as Eren chose things at the MAC store and Jean simply paid for it.

“Reminds me of us when we started dating.” She said, when the two kids walked out the Sephora with another bag of eyeshadow.

“She's gonna look pretty with green and brown eyeshadow, I'm telling you,if Armin's eyes are blue she's gonna look fantastic.” Jean assured Eren, who looked very unsure about it. “C'mon, trust me, it's color theory.”

“Well, she'll like all this stuff. She said she wanted to learn how to do make up once.” The younger boy filed through the three bags, cataloging in his mind everything they bought. “And you sure you can do her nails? I could do it.”

“Nah, she's your friend and I can paint. I can do it. Gonna give her flowers with crystal dew.” He nodded.

“Gonna look so cool, she's gonna be so happy!”

“Yeah, but first we gotta go back to the hospital, Henrik texted me about your blood tests and he's got something to tell you.” Grisha looked up from his phone, motioning for the boys to hurry up. “Come on, kids, we gotta go.”

“Yay! Jean, come on! Come ooooooon!” Eren started dragging his friend along, bags on his arms jingling with make up containers, nail polish and brushes.

At the hospital, Eren started to get jittery again.

“What if It's bad news? What if there's something wrong and I can't do it? What if he says I'll react badly to the medicine?”

Carla's hand accidentally slapped the arm that picked at a part of the skirt that was slightly worn out in the process of trying to stop him.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry, darling. I was just trying to hold your hand.” She apologized.

“I'm okay, mom.” Eren brushed it off. He stopped picking on the skirt, though.

“But anyway, I doubt it's anything bad. You eat healthy and you exercise enough. Be positive, honey.” She patted his head as lightly as she could; she was nervous too.

“Eren, could you please stop fretting?” Jean pleaded. “You're perfectly healthy, doctors just want to make sure of that.”

“I know. I'm nervous.” Eren admitted, sighing. “I just want this to go right.”

Jean kissed the other boy's cheek, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“It will. You'll be getting out of here with your medicine taken, you'll see.” He assured the other, turning his head back to watch the nurse's station.

“Eren Jaeger?” A woman in pink scrubs called, smiling when she located the boy, gesturing kindly for him to get closer. “Hey, princess, how are you doing? Are you ready for the exams results?” She asked brightly.

“No.”

“Well, then, I cannot help with that, I'm afraid I already gave the papers to Dr. Andersen.” She said. Eren grasped Jean's hand when she got closer. “And is this your boyfriend?”

“No.” They replied in unison.

“He's my best friend.” Eren explained.

“That's nice. He can hold your hand later, okay, you gotta change into these.” The nurse hands Eren a pink and purple pastel hospital gown. “Dr. Andersen will be with you shortly.”

“I'll be right out with your parents, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jean walked out slowly, hearing the hustle of Eren taking off his clothes while he closed the door. He bumped on someone's chest on his way out. Looking up, he saw it was Dr. Andersen.

“Oh, hey there. Is Eren changing still?”

“Yeah, they just called him in.” Jean crossed his arms.

“Oh, okay. Can you call Carla and Grisha? I'll get into the office to get some things first.” The man smiled and the boy frowned.

“Yes.”

Jean still was frowning when he reached Eren's parents.

“What happened, sweetie?” Carla frowned as well.

“... Do you think I can grow a beard?”

Grisha looked confused, while Carla laughed.

“Honey, don't worry, I'm sure Eren still likes you better.”

“He better.” Jean nearly pouted.

Dr. Andersen motioned for them to come along.

“So, let's get in, Eren's probably changed and wondering why he changed into hospital gowns by now.” He said cheerfully.

Eren was sitting in his cute gown on the bed, his legs dangling in the air.

“So, you might be wondering why you're sitting here in hospital clothes, right?” The man asked, smiling.

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” Dr. Andersen said solemnly and Eren looked ready to fret. “I realized you probably need to learn how to mix your medicine.”

Took Eren about ten seconds to react. When he did, he started crying, and Jean bolted by his side.

“Hey, shh, it's good news.”

“I know. I'm just happy ok? I was worried!”

“Baby, we're gonna sit out, I'm not feeling very good.” Carla said when Dr. Andersen pulled out the needles. She took her share of needles every week, she felt like she didn't need to watch this. Her baby getting stabbed, how preposterous.

“I'll stay with him, Mrs. Jaeger. I wanna see how that needle works.” Jean offered and the woman took it gratefully. Jean would be a fine son-in-law one day, she was sure of it.

Grisha took his wife back to the waiting room, and color went back to her face with each step she took away from the dual chamber syringe.

“Okay, Eren. Now, I'm going to tell you what's gonna happen.” The doctor pulled a chair, looking at both the kids. “It looks like your friend here deals with your temper a lot, so it's good he hears it too.” he joked. “It's good you know the side effects so you don't freak out. In the first month, it'll accelerate your puberty changes. Since it's apparently really early on, you won't get too masculinized. Your voice will probably drop an octave permanently, but nothing too bad.”

“I don't mind that. I just... don't want to be ugly.” Eren said, miserably. “I like Jean's voice, I hope mine would do that.”

Jean blushed.

“Okay.” Dr. Andersen seemed amused to all hell. “But anyway, you may get zits, pains, headaches, fevers, but it all will pass in time, okay? None of the things you'll experience are permanent, they'll fade off. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Right, now I'm gonna teach you how to use the needle. We'll give you a six month supply, and at the end of the six months you should go back so we can see if everything's okay and functioning as it should.” The man grabbed a syringe.

“This is a double chamber syringe. On one chamber we got the powder, which is the medicine, and on the other we got the diluent. So here, you grab the plunger and screw it on“, he showed the boys, screwing the white thing until the stopper started twisting with the plunger.

“Now, you put the diluent in the second chamber, by pressing and counting to eight, until the blue line. You gotta keep it with the needle up. Now you shake lightly until it becomes a bit white-ish, and there's no powder left. So, you inject this either on your butt, your shoulder or your thigh, you should ask your dad how to do it. So, gimme your leg. We'll start out there.” He got up and uncapped the needle.

“Make sure to get the air out, like this.” He pressed the plunger until a bit of the medicine squirted out. “Air in your bloodstream is always bad. Now comes the fun part. It's going to hurt, because it's a suspension medicine. But now all you gotta do is stick it in a major muscle, like shoulder, thigh or butt”, He exemplified by injecting carefully the medicine on his thigh. “if a little blood comes out it means you hit a vein, and so you can't use that vial. You'll get two extras in case of accidents.” Dr. Andersen warned, checking the injection site.

“Well, since we didn't hit anything, we inject it fast before it starts unmixing, and,” he pulled the needle out and put a cotton ball on the place, “here we go. You are officially adolescence-vaccinated.”

“That wasn't so bad.” Eren commented, pressing the cotton ball with force enough to bruise.

“Well, then. After that, you press this thing here on the side and slide it up to seal off the needle and when you hear the click, the needle is ready to be disposed of! Ta-da!” The doctor made a show of showing the ready-for-discarding needle. “We aren't making you come to the hospital once a month because your mother already comes here far too often. I know she wouldn't mind, but you look like a responsible young boy, so we are letting you do it by yourself.”

“I can do it!” The boy said, confidently.

“Awesome. Now, did you bring something to entertain yourself, because you're staying here for two hours, we need to check if the injection site will have any adverse effects.” Henrik gathered his things and walked to the door, calling Grisha and Carla into the room again and repeating what he just told the kids.

“See, see, I'll be cute forever now.” Eren pointed to where the injection was.

“You are cute, Eren.” His father told him, but the boy wasn't listening, contented.

“Don't mind him, Grisha, dysphoria and gender disconnection work in ways we may never fully understand, but if I could guess, it could have something with the pageants.” Dr. Andersen said, thoughtfully. “I get he likes them, but he competes with the girls, and pageant feminine standards are too high for a gender nonconforming child.”

“I'll try to slow him down on the numbers, but if you're right, then the damage is already done.” Carla mused, pulling out a smaller pink bag out of her own tote bag, that Eren was yelling for from the bed. “Here you go, you spoiled little brat, can't you wait until the adults are done talking?”

“But you guys would take forever to finish!” Eren whined, and Jean poked him on the injection bruise, making him yelp.

“They wouldn't and we are not so desperate for a Pokemon battle!” Jean chastised the other boy, holding the bag he was handed open so Eren could dig the pink and the black 3DS consoles out of it.

“Are you yelling at me? Seriously?” The brunette narrowed his eyes, and the blond rolled his.

“Because you were being annoying.”

“... It's on, _aptal*._ ”

“... Who you calling apt-all, pink face? I'm gonna crush your ghost-type team.”

“There we go, they're entertained for about the whole week.” Carla said, sighing.

* * *

“Sorry I yelled.”

Jean got his team annihilated, which was why he was apologizing.

“Damn right. I accept. But why the hell did you put your emboar against my frillish? That was not really smart of you.”

Jean debated telling him he had a momentary lapse of judgment when Eren bit his lip, but decided not to.

“I told you, I was letting you win, so you'll forgive me.”

“Uh huh.” Eren kissed the other boy on the face, laughing.

Eren had finally been released from his two hour observation with only light swelling, and, after grabbing his prescription (and did Grisha groan while paying), putting the syringes in the padded bag and sorting the make up by use in different plastic bags, they were heading to the bus stop as his parents went home to appreciate a day together free of yelling children.

“No, really. You look slightly less pretty angry. So yeah, excuse me for preferring you happy.”

Eren punched Jean's shoulder and signaled for the bus.

“So where are we going?”

“Across the school district, near the suburbs. Armin's grandpa's house is over there.” He explained.

“So, where are Armin's parents, if it's not rude of me?”

“Across the globe, probably. They're diplomats.”

“So, she lives with her grandpa?”

“Yup. He kinda dislikes me, because I'm a bad influence on Armin.”

“How are you a bad influence on Armin? Did she start picking fights with bullies?”

Eren stared at Jean, like he probably never stared at anyone.

“Are you serious now?”

“I am.” Jean replied, seriously.

“Let me break this down to you, Jean. When Armin was born, his mom said she was a boy.”

“You were born a boy too, but I still don't see it?”

The brunette sighed.

“Armin's grandpa is a butt about Armin being actually a girl, like, a real _salağın dik alâsı_ **.”

“It's really cute when you speak in turkish when you want to really offend people.”

“Glad you understand the meaning behind all the pet names.”

“Are we there, yet?”

Eren looked outside, and got up.

“C'mon, it's the next stop.”

Armin's house was a moderately sized house with a nicely trimmed garden and a white picket fence, painted in light blue, with the windowpanes in white. Jean could definitely picture some desperate housewife level shit going down there.

“Nice house.”

“It is.” Eren agreed, ringing the bell.

“I'll get it, grandpa.” A soft, gentle voice chimed, before the door clicked and the door opened.

“Oh. Eren!”

Armin was a short, blonde, blue eyed girl, thin and stringy, and Dr. Andersen was right when he said she looked positively sad.

“Armin! How are you, you look beautiful!” Eren smiled large and honestly, hugging the pretty little girl off the ground.

“Ouch! Eren, don't break me!”She laughed, a feet off the ground. “Oh, who's your friend? Is that Jean?”

The boy didn't know why, but he blushed.

“Yes, that's me. Jean Kirstein, nice to meet you.” He offered a hand for a handshake, and ended up pulled into a hug.

“So nice to meet you! Eren speaks a lot about you, it's annoying.” She smiled, pulling back from the hug.

“Eren also speaks a lot about you. It's nice to finally put a face to the name. And he's right, you're very pretty.”

Armin blushed, smiling shyly.

“Well, thank you. I'm not feeling it, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.”

“You're welcome.”

“So!” Eren intervened before it got weird. “Armin, we are here with gifts,” he lifted his make up bags, “and to give you a makeover! I know you wanted to learn how to do your make up, and I'm here to teach you!” He grinned so widely Jean though he might unhinge his jaws.

“And I'm here because I can paint, so I can give you flowers on your nails.” Jean lifted his own bags, one of which contained a fake nails kit and several different nail polish colors and nail décor kits.

“... You're here to do what?”

“You know, I went to get my blockers shot today and I found out we go to the same doctor! And he told me you were feeling down, and I remembered you wanted to learn how to do make up, so here we are!” Eren explained, eyes wide and bright.

“Eren, you are the best friend a girl can have, you know.” Armin said, seriously. “Like, I really, really love you. Boy cooties and everything.”

“I thought Eren had girl cooties all along, but okay.” Jean commented, following both children in the house, that looked so different from Eren's he thought he got whiplash.

Where Eren's was colorful and warm, smelling of food and fruits, looking well lived, Armin's house was light and bright, but had something artificial and unlived in it. Where Eren's house matched the inhabitants of it, Jean couldn't help but think that the southern style didn't match Armin at all.

Or maybe it matched a part of Armin; the side that had to take in stride everything the world threw at her with poise and composture.

Armin's room was also an experience of disconnection between owner and space. It was white and neutral, the bedsheets a solid light blue. A macbook hooked to an iPhone was the only obvious indications the room's occupant was human, with chemistry and biology themed decals.

“Cool room.” The blond boy commented offhandedly.

“Could be cooler, though, with science gadgets, and one of those minimal wardrobes that showed the clothes that were clean, and pink molecules painted on the walls.”

“I could paint them for you, if you want. Like, tomorrow. I'd buy the paints, you'd show me how the molecules look like and I'd paint them for you, no big deal.” Jean offered.

“But now, we gotta give Armin a makeover into her seeing the pretty pretty girl she is!” Eren dropped the bags on the meticulously made bed and shook off its contents on the covers.

“... What the hell is all this stuff?” Armin looked transfixed at the sheer amount of make up stuff on her bed.

“There's foundation, primer, face moisturizer, make up remover, blending sponge, setting powder, a lot of eyeshadow palettes, eyeliners of assorted colors in pen format cause it's easier, concealer, highlight powder, lipstick, lip stain, lipgloss, lip tar, lip tint, pore concealer, blush, bronzer, assorted eyeliner and lip pencils, brushes for all purposes, and my allowance international card so you can order 100 dollars of make up or clothes or both today.” Eren enumerated, pointing at the various things on the bed. Then Jean dumped his bags on another spot on the bed.

“Oh and that's a lot of nail polishes, nail filers of all sand grades, drawing pens for nail décor, nail decals, polish remover, a container for polish remover, a bag of pink cotton because you need cotton to do nails like whoa, a nail stick to take off excess polish, a thinger to push back your cuticles, a kit for fake nails if you want those, crystals of lots of sizes and two bags for all this stuff.” He pointed, excited.

“That is... a lot of stuff, how much did you spend on this, Eren? Two hundred dollars?” Armin asked, stunned.

“Six hundred and five with seventy three cents, actually. I footed the bill.” Jean said, like it was nothing. And really, to him it was nothing, seeing as his father was the CEO of a major bank, and probably what his dad made in a month was more than Grisha Jaeger made in a year and a half.

“Six hundred dollars?! Are you kidding me?! Eren, what the hell! Why did you made him spend all this money? On me, nonetheless! I don't even know him!” Armin yelled, scandalized.

“It's no big deal, Armin, really. It's not like I went bankrupt, I still have like, four thousand dollars in the bank.” Jean shrugged it off.

“But that could have gone to your college fund!” The girl argued.

Jean sighed and typed for a bit on his phone, then turned it to Armin.

“This is my college trust fund. Dad thinks I'm going to Harvard Law.”

Armin took five seconds to regain her composture.

“That's... more than Harvard Law costs, currently.”

“Yeah. Don't worry about me, worry about what will go in your current closet now that I know you want an open wardrobe.” The boy smiled and tentatively tried to put his arm around Armin. “Can I hug you?”

“... Yeah. Thank you.”

“It was nothing. Now, can we begin, I'm itching to play with nail polish.”

* * *

Eren made the most creative use of brush handles and hot air vents by the time he got to Armin's hair while Jean drew the complicated flower patterns on her nails.

“It's gonna settle in different sizes so it'll look natural, but I gotta get you a hair curler, if you ever want to replicate this on summer.”

“I feel ridiculous.” She commented, sighing. “So you started puberty blocking treatment with Dr. Andersen too?”

“Yup!” Eren nodded, checking if the clothespin weren't about to fall. “He was nice, and explained everything to me. He even let me take the next shots with me so mom doesn't need to take me back to the hospital for it.”

“That's cool.”

“I was there. It was surreal. I never thought about how needles work until today.” Jean looked up from applying some more of the red pen around the edges of the rose.

“It's weird, isn't it? It's a huge needle too, I thought it was going to go through my thigh.”

“He gave me the shot on my shoulder. I know it takes longer to be absorbed there, since it's not an as used muscle as the thigh or the gluts, but I think he understood.” She said, shaking her head lightly.

“Let me see these curls now... Perfect!” Eren exclaimed as he removed the brushes one by one, and loose curls hung from Armin's overgrown hair.

“You look amazing.” Jean said, and he thinks he never saw a prettier girl, the only exception being Eren.

“Thanks.” Armin smiled, blushing. She truly wasn't used to getting complimented.

“You really do. Like an angel.” Eren completed.

“You don't really call white people angels, so I guess I must look really good for you to be dishing out that specific compliment.”

“I don't, you're right. Brag responsibly.” He laughed.

“And... I'm... done.” Jean applied the last crystal onto the last sheer coat and straightened out, groaning. “Dang it, mom's nail designers make this look so effortlessly, but my back is hurting.”

“Oh my god. Eren, look at this.” Armin raised her hands, amazed. There were an assorted bouquet of flowers, from red carnations to blue tulips, all decorated with the smallest of crystals, like dew. “You're so good, this is so pretty, thank you so much.”

“You're so welcome.”

“Armin, who's there, son?” A voice asked and an old man, of about sixty years, entered the room and stared.

“Uh, Eren brought a friend over?” Armin answered in a tiny voice.

“Oh, hello, Eren. And who's your friend?”

“I'm Jean Kirstein, sir.”

“Oh, the son of François Kirstein? I saw your dad on the news the other day.” The man commented.

“I hope not another affair scandal.” Jean was hoping against hope, he knew, but one day his dad would stop going out with girls barely older than him and giving them money and gifts.

“Sadly, yes. Your father does have a penchant for young girls, it seems.”

“Can we like, not talk about it? It's embarrassing.”

“Well, I'll leave you kids to your play. I'll have some snacks by five.”

Armin breathed out as soon as the man closed the door.

“He only called me a boy once.” She whispered, the groundbreaking realization hitting her like a freight train.

“Does he do that often?” Jean asked.

“Yes. I think he thinks it's just Eren's influence. When I think I've been a worst influence on him than he's been on me.”

Eren cracked his knuckles.

“Armin. Let's start your makeover. I'm Carmindy and you're on What Not To Wear.” He said, striking a pose with the brushes.

“Alright, I have no idea where to start, to be honest.” Armin admitted. “I never wore make up.”

“I know that, which is why I'm here. I'm gonna teach you to do a really glam make up, then I'm gonna teach you to remove make up properly, then I'm gonna give you a simple thing for everyday.” Eren explained.

“I'm going to sit here and learn too.” Jean pulled Armin's desk chair and sat, staring a little.

“Yeah, but do you gotta stare? It's uncomfortable.” The girl fidgeted.

“Yes. I like knowing what all the things I spent money on do and I draw. Artists stare.”

“Jean, you either tone it down or I'm going to tone it down for you.” Eren pointed at him with a fluffy pink brush.

“A'ight, a'ight, sheesh. No need to punch me.”

“Right. So, I'm gonna use the big brush kit. We got you three kits. The big Morphe kit, a medium sized by Hello Kitty, and a small one by MAC. So the big one is for complicated stuff. They used to be mine, and were in my bag for some reason. They're cheap so I can always order them again, so don't worry. So, brushes.”

He splayed out the brush kit.

“This one,” he pulled out the first, “is exactly the same as the second. You use one for setting powder and the other for blush. This one is supposed to be for foundation, but I don't like it, so we use the sponge.” Eren pulled the beauty blender sponge. “These,” he pointed to all but the last three brushes, “are for eyeshadow, and this here is the gel eyeliner brush that we use to apply eyeshadow of the same color on the pen eyeliner. Makes it last longer and not stick to the crease. Mika taught me that, though I don't know what crease she's talking about on herself.”

“That is true.” Armin laughed.

“These last two are for lips. Not that you'll need to use on yourself, since these things are yours. The Hello Kitty kit doesn't have a foundation brush, bless its soul. So just use the fluffy brush for the setting powder and you're done. The travel kit has a foundation brush, which, if I do my job right, will remain largely untouched.”

“You are a perfect Beauty Blender saleswoman, Eren.” Jean commented. “That girl on Sephora got nothing on you.”

“Thank you.” He bowed towards Jean. “First things first, contouring. Contouring is the single best friend of anyone who wears make up.” He banged two foundation flasks on the dresser. “We got you two foundations, one that's your tone and the other that is a shade darker. We're gonna pull a Carmindy here.” He said, and started working, stopping at random intervals to show Armin the progress. “It's gonna look weird at first, but if we blend it well, we'll get a natural look on your face.”

“This sounds complicated.” Armin complained.

“Not at all! See, it's just a matter of blllleeeending. You're blonde, so you got literally everything going on for you.”

“Ouch. Keep the vitriol for yourself, Eren.”

* * *

“Armin, bring your friends, we're going to eat now.”

They hadn't even noticed the time passing.

“We're coming, grandpa!” Armin yelled, panicking. She obviously thought her grandfather would yell at her if she went down wearing the near sheen, extremely natural-looking make up Eren taught her.

“We're right here, okay? And it's not noticeable at all, anyway. Your eyes just look bluer, is all. It's why in natural-looking make ups we use nude shades.” Eren explained. “So gullible boys aren't able to say 'but your eyelids are orange' or something equally absurd. And besides, he didn't say anything about the nails, so I think he's giving up.”

“Yeah, it's just brown and sand-colored powder and liner and a bit of paint, you look fine.” Jean agreed.

“Thank you two.” She said, gratefully, feeling more confident than before.

* * *

“She was nice.” Jean commented before they passed out.

“She is totally nice.” Eren agreed, sleepily.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations according to Google Translate  
> *birdbrain  
> **bloody fool
> 
> Make-up brush kits featured in this chapter:  
> [MAC](http://www.sephora.com.br/mac/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/kit-keepsakes/mac-studio-brush-kit-19342)  
> [Hello Kitty](http://www.sephora.com.br/hello-kitty/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/kit-de-pinceis-brush-set-with-holder-17934)  
> [Morphe](http://morphebrushes.com/index.php?dispatch=products.view&product_id=883)
> 
> Referred make up bag because Eren is slightly self-indulgent  
> [Hello Kitty](http://www.sephora.com.br/hello-kitty/maquiagem/acessorios/case-de-maquiagem-hello-kitty-traincase-17938)
> 
> Make up  
> [MAC StudioFix liquid foundation](http://www.sephora.com.br/mac/maquiagem/face/base-studio-fix-fluid-spf-15-7418)  
> [MAC Studio Careblend pressed powder](http://www.sephora.com.br/mac/maquiagem/face/studio-careblend/pressed-powder-10787)  
> [MAC Studio Moisture moisturizer](http://www.sephora.com.br/mac/tratamento/face/hidratante-studio-moisture-fix-spf-15-7578)  
> [Benefit The POREfessional pre-make up](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/face/creme-pre-maquiagem-the-porefessional-11633)  
> [Benefit Fake Up moisturizing concealer](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/face/corretivo-ultra-hidratante-fake-up-14970)  
> [Benefit Watts Up! highlighter](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/face/iluminador-watts-up!-11672)  
> [Benefit Fine One One blush](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/face/blush-fine-one-one-14973)  
> [Benefit Remove It make up remover](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/face/demaquilante-remove-it-makeup-remover-12397)  
> [Benefit They're Real! mascara](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/olhos/mascara-de-cilios-theyre-real-11661)  
> [Benefit Smokin' Eyes kit for smoky eyes](http://www.sephora.com.br/benefit-cosmetics/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/kit-smokin-eyes-12651)  
> [Urban Decay Naked palette](http://www.sephora.com.br/urban-decay/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/estojo-de-sombras-naked-palette-12588)  
> [Urban Decay Revolution lipstick on Bang](http://www.sephora.com.br/urban-decay/maquiagem/labios/batom-urban-decay-revolution-lipstick-16771)  
> [Sephora Smoky Studio 2 palette](http://www.sephora.com.br/sephora-collection/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/estojo-de-maquiagem-smoky-studio-2-14580)  
> [Sephora Classic Line Felt eye liner pen](http://www.sephora.com.br/sephora-collection/maquiagem/olhos/delineador-classic-line-felt-eye-liner-18728)  
> [NARS Audacious lipstick in Anabella, Geraldine, Lana and Rita](http://www.sephora.com.br/nars/maquiagem/labios/batom-audacious-lipstick-18960)  
> [NARS eye paint pot in Interstellar, Mesopotamia and Snake Eyes](http://www.sephora.com.br/nars/maquiagem/olhos/delineador-e-sombra-eye-paint-16057)  
> [NARS bronzing powder in Laguna](http://www.sephora.com.br/nars/maquiagem/face/po-bronzeador-bronzing-powder-12400)  
> [Stila Lip Glaze in Cotton Candy, Kitten and Strawberry](http://www.sephora.com.br/stila/maquiagem/labios/brilho-lip-glaze-12484)  
> [Revlon Colorbust Balm in Stain Sweetheart, Stain Rendezvous and Whimsical](http://www.sephora.com.br/revlon/maquiagem/labios/batom-colorburst-balm-18266)  
> [Shiseido Automatic fine liner in brown](http://www.sephora.com.br/shiseido/maquiagem/olhos/delineador-automatic-fine-eyeliner-10246)  
> [Lancôme Artliner in Violet Vibrant and Bleu Métal](http://www.sephora.com.br/lancome/maquiagem/olhos/delineador-artliner-862)  
> [Sisley Photo Lip Twist lip moisturizer in Berry, Nude and Peach.](http://www.sephora.com.br/sisley/tratamento/labios/hidratante-labial-phyto-lip-twist-19074)  
> [Make Up Forever Flash Color Palette](http://www.sephora.com.br/make-up-for-ever/maquiagem/kits-de-maquiagem/estojo-de-maquiagem-flash-color-palette-12266)
> 
> most of the links are in portuguese bc i am brazilian and yall have to suck it :)  
> So many of the things have moisturizing factors because in my headcanon, Armin has dry skin. plus, moist skin is never too much.  
> this is literally what Jean and Eren considered 'basic'. yall gotta keep in mind Eren can only do pageant make up and extremely natural make up and Jean is literally a fucking monstergirl artist. the concept of 'glam but understated' doesn't exist in their minds.


	6. Rose-Beauty and the evil Palace-Dame's Daughter, pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title off turkish fairy tale [The Rose Beauty](http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/ftft/ftft07.htm)  
> it's kinda tetric and hella gorey  
> please do read all of those, see on what Eren's been raised in this AU
> 
> (did you notice that each passing chapter i increase the amount of research because i did)  
> (it's called writing when white)

Eren gets woken up at five in the morning by his cellphone playing Love Me Back loudly.

“... What.” He spoke into the mic, because it was, indeed, a call.

“I heard I can finally meet Jean this weekend.”

“Mika, what the hell, it's five in the godforsaken morning.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so early.” Mikasa said softly, and tiredly. “We just got back from a week at baa-chan's. That and your next pageant is in town, so I believe Jean is coming. So, what are you two planning on gifting me?”

“What?” He asked. It was too early to think.

“Well, you two got six hundred dollars worth of make up for Armin, plus a redeemable for 100 dollars gift card, and while I don't expect the same treatment, since I already know how to wear make up, I am however expecting a gift.” She explained. “Since I gather gift giving is how he greets new people?”

She had a point.

“I'll talk about meeting with the four of us. We'll see about the whole gifting thing.”

“Brilliant. I'll call you when both of us are feeling more human.”

* * *

 

Eren ended up oversleeping and woke up to his mother flicking water on his face.

“Anne*! Why did you do that?”

“It's nine AM. How long were you planning on sleeping in?” She asked, flicking more water on Eren's face.

“Nine?!” He yelled, bolting off the bed. “Mikasa called me at five, asking if she could meet Jean, and I went back to sleep. Sorry.”

“It's okay, yavru**. Dad left before dawn today, and we had leftover fruit salad. Besides, guess who's getting older today?” She asked, expectantly.

“Uh. Jean? His birthday is soon.”

“Silly, it's your birthday. And my gift to you was letting you sleep in.” 

Eren bolted upright, and sure as the sun rises everyday, there was a small pile of gifts on the foot of his bed.

“I'm twelve today! I'm the same age as Jean for a week!

“Yes you are. Aren't you gonna open your gifts?” Carla asked, amused.

Eren latched to the biggest one first. It was big and it was heavy, so he figured it could only be one thing.

“YES! My new pageant dress!” He squealed, holding the poofy, red dress with crystals, knee length skirt flaring in a bell shape, and crystal strings falling off the shoulder. “This one's so so pretty! I'm gonna look so cute!”

“Also, baby, don't forget, you need to take your shot today.” The woman got on her feet, using the canopy of the bed to hoist herself up, since one leg was being uncooperative. As soon as it stopped, she let go of the post. “And that you're supposed to meet Jean in the airport, too.”

“Right, right. Seni seviyorum, anne.***”

“Seni seviyorum, nonoş.****”

“Anne!”

She slid out of the bedroom, laughing.

Eren looked at the ceiling, sighing. It wasn't the first time his mother called him that, and while he knew she meant well, he didn't know how to tell her he didn't like it at all.

* * *

 

In the airport, Jean dip- kissed Eren.

Full out chick flick, romcom, shoujo anime dip- kiss ing.

The largest part of the movement was dedicated to making Eren lean back almost to the point his head touched the ground. The aforementioned kiss was barely a lip touch, but Eren still blushed.

“We're in public!”

“So what? Am I not allowed to do this?” Jean asked.

“... I didn't say that.”

“You're so cute. So, what are we doing today?”

Eren eyed Jean, weirded out.

“Aren't you jet-legged?”

“What, no. I'm fine. I never get jet-lagged.” He said confidently.

“Uh huh. So, you know Mikasa? She's finally available at the same time as you now. She wants to meet you.”

“Oh! I get to meet the third Charlie's Angel. We have Drew Barrymore and Cameron Diaz, already. Now to meet Lucy Liu!”

“Because she's Japanese or because she's mysterious as the dark side of the moon?” Eren asked, side eyeing him.

“Because she sounds just as amazing, ok.” Jean replied. “You talk so much about her, I'm curious.”

“You might as well, she's wonderful and cute and a bit shy.”

“She did sound as much, from all your talk. Where are we meeting her? Talking about meeting, you still haven't met Marco. You haven't been in New York at all for a year and a half now, if I'm being honest.” Jean pointed out.

“Sorry. New York is just... too noisy. I'll go back with you for your birthday, okay? Then I can meet your friend. Also, I have no idea where Mikasa wants to go today.” He pulled his cellphone out, and saw there was still no message from his friend. “I think she's still sleeping, she woke me up at five in the morning to tell me she arrived. Maybe tomorrow.”

“It's okay. But tomorrow isn't the big pageant day?”

“Oh, my god, yes it is. Gonna tell her--” Eren got interrupted by the message chime on his phone. “Oh. She wants to meet in the park near the shopping mall. C'mon, we gotta grab a taxi home first. I'll tell her we'll be there in an hour.”

“Make it two. I'm starving.” Jean whined.

“Oh, come on, you big baby, we can eat in the mall.” Eren replied, unimpressed.

“But Eren, sweetheart, moon of my life, I'm starving!” He whined some more, pleading with the unyielding turkish boy in a futile attempt at getting Eren to take pity on him.

“No compliments will get me to postpone for another hour. You can, however, let your whole set up for later, so you can make time for a quick bite.” Eren conceded. “C'mon, we still have a fifteen minute ride home.”

* * *

 

“I'm still hungry.” Jean complains as Eren scouts the park for Mikasa.

“I made you three cheese melts.”

“I'm still hungry, so hungry.”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, okay, we'll find Mika and we'll go eat. Happy?”

“Very. Thank you, sweetheart.” Jean batted his eyelashes at Eren and he outright ignored that. No eye-making would sway Eren from his obstinated friend-finding.

“There she is! Mika!” Eren yelled at a dark-haired girl, who waved at them and Eren waved back, pulling Jean along with him.

“Hey, Eren. And... this must be Jean.” She said.

“Yes, ma'am.” Jean was blushing. Eren didn't like it.

“So, this big baby was complaining about being hungry, can we go eat?” He said, annoyed.

“Yes, I'm hungry as well. I could go for a burger.” Mikasa replied, linking her arm to her friend's.

The walk to the nearest McDonald's was tense. Eren was upset with Jean, and Jean didn't know what he did to upset Eren, and Mikasa just plain didn't understand what happened there.

“So... Are you two always this quiet?” She asked, because usually Eren wasn't quiet at all, except when he was concentrating in something. When he was doing his house chores, he sung to whatever song was playing in his phone; when he was playing video games, he cursed colorfully in turkish and english and talked to the characters in the game; and when he was with friends, he was usually chatty. Eren was acting as if he just met the two of them.

“Apparently we are now?” Jean more asked than affirmed, holding Eren's free hand. Eren was practically crushing his hand, but he didn't have the heart to tell him it was starting to hurt, because Eren looked so upset.

“Eren, are you okay?” Mikasa turned to her best friend, worried.

“Yes! Super okay!” He said with false enthusiasm. Mikasa and Jean looked at each other (or rather Mikasa looked at Jean, who squeaked and looked away, blushing harder).

“We both know you're not, Eren.” She replied, looking towards their destination. “You're acting weird.”

“It's nothing.” He assured, a little more controlled. “I swear. I'll deal with it later.”

His friends weren't all that convinced, but let it slide; Eren was stubborn and they still hadn't found a match in stubbornness that could rival his, and Armin wasn't there to craftly coax the truth out of him like only a really smart person could.

“I'm gonna grab a Big Mac, what do you guys want?” Jean asked, pulling out his wallet when they settled on a table.

“A chicken wrap with grape juice, please.” Mikasa relayed. “And this shut in likes Happy Meal with orange juice and one of the girl's toys. Choose wisely, or he'll walk over there angry, trade the toy and not talk to you for the rest of the day.”

Jean snorted.

“The toys are Monster High dolls, I think, so if he doesn't want that, I'll take it and just buy him something at Toys R Us.”

“Ugh, you can take it. I want a Pinkie Pie.” Eren dismissed him as if he were royalty.

“Are you sure? I think they still have Draculaura.”

“Dismissed, knave.” Eren waved his hand more forcefully. “Weren't you hungry?”

“Wow, feisty. Okay, your majesty Emir Eren.”

“The pronoun for Emir is your highness!” Eren yelled after Jean, who turned around and bowed before resuming his walk towards the counter.

“So, what was up with that shut-down of all communications back there?” She poked Eren, who batted her hand away.

“I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Okay. Will you tell me when you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” They fell into an awkward silence, and Eren shifted in his seat.

“I'm going to visit grandma next week. Gonna suffer two weeks of nine***** trying to convince mom that dad isn't a very good son-in-law.”

“Is she still trying to do it? I thought she gave up years ago.” Mikasa laughed.

“You know how grandmothers are. No one is quite good for their kids.” Eren commented.

“And their family gotta have pedigree, none of this commoner bullshit.” She agreed.

“Then thank god my family is rich enough, or I wouldn't be able to even befriend you all.” Jean joked, balancing two trays with their food.

“You could've asked for help.” Eren admonished, grabbing one of the trays before the juices and Coke fell on the ground.

“Or I could pretend to be more useful to you than your regular puppy and bring the stuff so you will stop calling me useless.” Jean pointed out.

“What if you let everything fall, then? I'd still call you useless then.” Eren kicked Jean when he took a seat across him and beside Mikasa.

“Wow, you two really do argue like Eren's parents.” She whistled, and the two boys halted their bicker.

They continued bickering throughout the meal, with Mikasa occasionally siding with Eren when he pointed out the other ate like a savage, and with Jean when he pointed out he bought the meals so he should be able to eat as savagely as he wanted.

* * *

 

“So, you got a pageant tomorrow, right?” Mikasa asked.

“Yup. It's here, so you should come watch me beat the competition!” Eren replied confidently.

“Really, now? Overconfident, are we?” She looked at him, skeptic.

Eren fixated his best friend with a deadpan stare.

“He really does, though. Generally he gets the highest prizes.” Jean interceded. “He's doing a forest fairy act for the fairytale show. It's gonna be awesome, and he better get the prize for it because it's a separate talent-main crowns event and I'll be doing his fairy tale make up.”

“Oh, yeah! Talking about that, you know I want lots of blue and lilac, right? Unnatural rose colors for the Rose-Beauty.” Eren asked, pulling on Jean's arm.

“Yeah, I know, you just mentioned it about fifteen times.”

“It's because I want to be sure you're not planning to pull an Ever After High on me, okay? It's a story of death, rebirth and lots of pearl-tears.” He crossed his arms. Mikasa shook her head. “What?”

“You're doing it again. The acting like you're boyfriends thing.” She laughed.

“We're not!” They yelled, blushing.

* * *

 

Jean woke up that Saturday at six in the morning, shaken by a hyperactive Eren.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, we're setting off at nine, and I don't wanna leave you behind!” He said, excited.

The blond yawned. It was too early to be alive again, in his opinion, but Eren was up and about, babbling happily about the pageant and collecting various things from one side of the room to another.

“Isn't your dad doing a double shift today? How are we getting there?” He asked, sleepily.

“We're calling a cab, duh. You do know there are cabs outside of New York, right?”

Of course. Jean whined and buried his face in the pink pillow again.

“It's too early to think.”

“C'mon, you big baby. It starts at ten, so we gotta be there by nine. I gotta have most things ready and hair on the way, and clothes packed, and I need help.”

Thankfully they were already at the stage Jean knew about Carla's disease, so he didn't question, sighing pitifully instead.

“Can I sleep some more at least?” He tried to bargain.

“No. Get your ass out the bed.” Eren grabbed the bag and put in the neatly folded underpants.

“Nnnnoooooo. Come here and love me.”

“No, you come here and love me. I need to get my extensions clipped in.” Anyway, Eren still sat on the bed and pulled Jean by the arms.

“Holy shit, you're strong. Okay, okay, I'm up. Gimme that hair.” He motioned, arms around Eren's waist, chin on his shoulder.

“Here.” Eren put the extensions on Jean's hand, and turned his back to the other boy.

“Where do I clip it?”

“Around the middle of my head, up here.” He pointed to a part of the back of his head, and Jean tried his hardest to clip them on right, with some help and adjusting. Eren's slightly long hair covered the seams perfectly.

“There you go, all long-haired.” Jean flipped the hair over Eren's shoulder, only to have him flip the hair back.

“Great. You can sleep until seven.”

“Wow, no, now I'm awake. What do you need me to do?”

 

* * *

 

By eight thirty, Eren's half-done in his pyjamas, sitting on the backseat of a taxi while Jean tried hard to beat N, but he, in Eren's opinion, kept using the wrong movements.

“Zekrom is a dragon, you butt. Use a dragon-type move, not a fire.”

“But I'm trying to milk out the XP.”

“I don't know if you know, but you'll get about the same, now finish him. You won't get to capture it, anyways.”

“Ugh, okay, you pushy.” Jean complained and leaned back, pressing the button reluctantly.

“There you go, it wasn't so hard, was it?” He said, crossing his arms.

“Boys, stop fighting. You can take out your frustrations on your Nintendos later.” The woman practically commanded, and Eren sulked back on his seat. He'd been acting more belligerent towards Jean, and Jean had no idea why that was.

 

* * *

 

“ _I hate Eren. She thinks she's so cool with that fake tan and wig. Just because she beat me three times it doesn't mean she'll beat me now.” Ayleene, 12 years old._

“ _Ayleene has this unhealthy fixation with beating this girl Eren. I mean, we don't know how she beat us, Ayleene is both better developed than her and much, much prettier. Like, Eren's obviously not american, even her name sounds like Helen misspelled. Ayleene is much more typical apple pie american, and I think that's what the judges should look for.”_ Gabrielle, Ayleene's mom.

“ _She thinks she's so cool with that boyfriend of hers. I don't know what he sees in her, honestly. I'm obviously much, much cuter and more beautiful.” Ayleene, 12 years old._

“ _I think my daughter should just let it go, it's obvious she's not the boy's type. But she's my daughter, and I should incentive her towards her goals.” Robert, Ayleene's dad._

 

* * *

 

Eren came back from the beauty show crying. Not sad tears, either, but angry ones.

“Baby, what happened?” Carla asked, distressed that her son was distressed.

“That blonde witch! She's gonna eat her words, mom.” He said through his teeth, furious. Jean knew better than trying to touch him until he's stopped trembling. So he started talking.

“Well, I don't know _which_ blonde, because it seems every mother of a blonde girl decided to sign their daughter in this pageant, but you nailed your routine. You were very pretty.” He told the other boy, who was still seething.

“Exactly my point! She was saying she's so much more beautiful than me and that her beauty shone through, and she was unique-looking. Like, did she look around? I'm the only brunette in the entire hotel!” He gestured around wildly. “Oh, and she said you could do better? Better how? Her? We're not even dating and my opinion is you couldn't do better.” Eren harrumphed, jabbing the floor number when they stepped into the elevator.

“C'mon, let's get you into your Rose-Beauty nightmare of a dress.” Carla said, and Eren immediately brightened up.

“Yeah! That'll teach her! I am much cuter than a blondie.” He lifted his chin, defiant.

 

* * *

 

“ _You don't even have boobs, how are you a girl? I have boobs. And I have hips. I'm a_ real _girl.” Ayleene said, scathingly, while the other girls waiting to be called whispered amongst themselves._

“ _You're not the judge of who's a real girl, not here nor anywhere.” Eren replied, voice wavering._

“ _Seriously, how does your boyfriend even puts up with you? You're so ugly. Your skin looks like you bathed in coffee.” The blonde and taller girl scoffed._

“ _I don't need a TV show producer talking to the judges to get a title.” He shot back, and the girls around snickered. It was true after all. Ayleene blushed angrily through her layers of make up._

“ _I bet your rich boyfriend slipped some money to the judges, they wouldn't choose a terrorist over someone who's actually american without bribe.”_

_ Eren's hands formed fists and he looked ready to swing at her, before he breathed in and reigned his anger. _

“ _If being american means being a self-centered stupid blonde who thinks she's more american than any of us because her name is a misspelling of that 'ayy lmao' meme, then I'm proud to be turkish.” He said, icily._

_ They stood there, shooting eye-darts at each other until the  emcee called number 14, Eren. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Anne: mom  
> ** yavru: cub (in here as in lion cub)  
> *** Seni seviyorum: I love you  
> **** nonoş: fairy, also queer  
> ***** nine: grandma
> 
> also if you never listened to the song [Love Me Back by Can Bonomo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtvCJ9XwXvM), you're doing yourself a disfavor.  
> sometimes europe does something right and it's called eurovision  
> ps: [you can also watch the live version with the infamous manboat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Qa7_y21oOY). it's every bit as good as it sounds
> 
> ps2: part one because there'll be a part two (and a part three like, 10 years in the future)


	7. Rose-Beauty and the evil Palace-Dame's Daughter, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha sorry this is short af  
> but i'm going to start with the stuff i have already written like a year ago and that i've been fucking dying to post because it's just TOO GOOD.  
> please forgive me about the lateness and shortness of this chapter.
> 
> warning: some racist remarks that do not reflect my opinion at all

Eren looked at the crowd of girls and grasped Jean's hand.  His hais and extentions were braided with actual roses, and several plastic pearls were glued to his face near his eyes; the blue and purple make up and dress brought out his skin, and made Eren look mesmerizing.

“You did a good job, Jean.” Carla had said, nodding, before telling them to go without her, that she wasn't feeling well and would lay down until the crowning, because her back was killing her (Eren was sure it was because her leg started shaking, but he didn't say anything).

People stared and moms angrily whispered to their families, probably talking about Eren's skin in derogatory tones (all the while shoving their daughters in spray tanning salons). Jean heard one of them saying something about “goddamn arabs” taking stuff from “true americans”, and he almost said Eren is just as true an american as them, and then remembered the boy doesn't refer to himself nor acts like a “true american”. He was turkish, and proud of it. And right now, he was his favorite zombie, the Rose-Beauty, and no one could stop him.

“Do I look good?” He asked anyway, twirling in his artfully purple stained blue dress. A blond girl dressed as Cinderella was seething in the corner. When Eren spotted her, he smiled and kissed Jean in the mouth. When Eren pulled back, Jean was left dizzy and smiling like a goof, and trying to get another. That seemed to make the girl even angrier, so he figured that was the girl who offended Eren before, and that a few more kisses wouldn't hurt. Eren ended up leaving almost all his gloss on his mouth, and Jean considered himself a happy goober.

“You're always the prettiest, okay?” Jean said, smiling like a doof. “The prettiest girl in the world.”

“And you're the biggest liar in the world.” Eren replied, laughing.

“No, you.”

“You.”

“No, you.” 

“You are.”

“Eren, you are the prettiest liar in the world.” Jean rebutted, hugging the other boy and kissing him. “You also taste like cotton candy.”

“Well, they do say sweet lips tell the sweetest lies.” Eren whispered and Jean felt himself be seduced. It was a good tumblr post. 'My girl-friend keeps being cute as heck, send help.'

He pulled out his shiny new iPhone to snap a picture, but Eren was faster.

“Oh, so you changed phones? So cool!” Jean puffed out his chest like two years ago. The only way he felt cool was when Eren said it.

“Yeah, can I take a picture for my blog?”

“You have a blog?” He asked, wide eyed and Jean couldn't resist it.

“I'm old enough to have a tumblr, so I made one.” He answered.

“So, I pose like this?” Eren struck a pose, winking and tilting his head to one side, smiling, and Jean never snapped a picture so fast. He needed to immortalize that face.

The emcee called Eren's age group, and with one last kiss to the cheek, he went to align. A few roses shed petals on the way, and seeing as Eren was laughing, he thought it fitting. He wrote down the caption on the picture and a fast explanation: 'My friend Eren competes in pageants and the costume is of a turkish fairy tale called The Rose-Beauty. It's fitting.'

Halfway through the age group, he checked his notes. For a post that wasn't even tagged properly, it got 70 notes fairly quick. Quite a few were reblogs from his followers, who had appeared out of the woodwork, after his art and photos. One of them had left commentary: 'Fuck her.'

He had no idea what  _goodgollymissfucker_ had to do with anything, but he figured a reply was in order: '1 – Eren goes by he/him. 2 – I'm 13, he's 12. 3 – I'm pretty sure I'm ace, anyway.' He hit reblog.

As Giulya, number 27, got off stage, he checked his notes again. Tumblr user  _goodgollymissfucker_ had reblogged his picture again: 'Cuddle him. Hard. And smooch his cheeks a lot. No bedroom activities until you're both like, 30.'

“My friend, you'd be floored if I told you we've been sleeping in the same bed for two years.” He murmured.

Eren got called onstage. Literally the only girl going onstage that mattered to Jean. Thankfully, he had dissuaded the other boy from choosing his godforsaken ringtone, Love Me Back by Can Bonomo, as the music for this act. They settled on another poppy song by the same singer, one that Jean couldn't even pronounce.

“You don't get any less american than a song that can be traced back to Eurovision!” He whined, and Eren pouted, but complied. The judges had to think he was american. Most of the points a person of color got in those pageants were by acting all-american. Or, as Eren called, 'acting as white as bread.'

He sure wasn't acting white right now, but now he had a name in the pageant world to back him up. His movements were fluid, and worked with his dress to create the illusion of floating in the air, like he was dancing while flying. Eren was mesmerizing and Jean was the moth to his flame.

He saw a post about this on tumblr once. He liked the post, and read it every once in a while. It was about the different types of attraction a person can feel. There was sexual (he was pretty sure he would never feel that one), romantic (he had no idea what this was), sensual (he understood that one so hard) and aesthetic. That last one came to mind whenever he saw Eren performing for a pageant. He was so pretty, and sweet, and aesthetically pleasing.

He probably shouldn't tell Eren that. But he felt the other knew already.  After all, he took his fashion advice to heart, and did his best to make Jean feel inadequate by looking like a goddamn goddess. He felt like he could stand feeling that if it meant Eren would shine like a diamond.

“Was I good?” Eren asked, kissing Jean in the cheek.

“You were awesome.” Jean was still pretty hypnotized.

“I missed three steps.” Eren pointed out.

“You're the queen, ok?” Jean kissed Eren back. “You'll always be the one and only beauty queen, you hear me?”

“You're still so silly.” Eren smiled sweetly.

“He's silly alright, because he could do so much better.” A nasal voice scorned. The same blonde Cinderella was looking down on them, rolling her eyes.

“Ugh, go away, Ayleene.” Eren complained, putting a possessive hand on Jean's hand and oh. They were fighting because of him. It was almost making him feel like a stud.

“What if I don't? What will you do, yell at me?” She mocked, and Jean saw it coming from a mile away. Eren's hands went in fists and he swinged at the girl.

“Eren, no!” He hissed, jumping off his seat to hold Eren's arm. “You're gonna get eliminated!”

Ayleene seemed far too shocked to react. That girl was going to punch her. No one had ever hurt her physically before, not her parents, nor the girls at her school. She was the pageant queen of her city, she was pretty and popular.

“You... you were going to punch me.” She muttered, eyes wide and watery.

“You're lucky Jean's here to stop me or you'd need so much make up to hide the black eye.” Eren hissed at her, pretty face contorted in a look of hatred.

“Eren, come on. It's not worth it.” Jean tried to appease Eren's temper, petting his face lightly, one hand around his shoulders. “What did you even tell her?” He asked the girl, sounding utterly disappointed and tired. Ayleene's mind grasped at what to answer.

She figured she really had gone past the point of rivalry teasing, if someone was trying to hurt her enough to leave a mark.  She had wanted the pretty blond boy with the weird brown girl to like her and everything had gone backwards. But her pride spoke louder, and she harrumphed, walking away angrily.

Eren slumped on Jean's arms, and Jean started freaking out slightly.

“Are you alright? Eren? Please don't die on me.” He started shaking the other frantically, and Eren couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm okay, I'm okay! Stop, I'm getting dizzy...” He latched onto Jean's body, so he couldn't shake him anymore. He remembered why he got sad quickly enough, though. “Do you think I'm not good enough for you?”

Jean pushed Eren off him and stared at the other.

“... What?”

“You and Ayleene would make a pretty couple.” He blurted out, defeated.

“Eren, what the hell did she tell you?” Jean commanded, sternly.

“She said a dirty girl like me should go back to dirty Middle East, and that I didn't deserve a cute boy like you.” He repeated, eyes watering up.

“That's a lie and you know it.” Hehugged Eren, hard, because it looked like he was crying pearls, just like in the story. “C'mon, let's go get changed for the crowning and call your mom. You're fabulous and don't deserve to be crying over what some girl with a fake tan told you.”

Eren won Ultimate Grand Supreme of the East Coast Fairy Tales pageant, but that didn't stop Ayleene's mom from harassing the judges about it.

“That girl can't be what you're looking for in a pageant! She's not even pretty!” The woman screamed, and Carla took offense at that.

“Excuse me? Maybe your daughter isn't good enough! My child worked very hard for it! Eren has to work twice as hard as any girl here because she's not white, have you considered that?” She yelled at the other woman, getting red in the face.

“Who did you pay?” The other outright accused, and Carla had to breathe deep to stop herself from slapping the other. Her hand was literally twitching to do it.

“Who did you pay that your talentless offspring got almost as high as my baby?” She spat right back, and the other woman sneered.

“Ayleene is so much better than your daughter! At least she's american!”

Carla laughed.

“Thank Allah we're not american, then, if being american means being judgemental racists!” She said, turning around and leaving the blonde woman to try and grasp at nothing. She probably wasn't expecting the response she got; neither did the judges, because they were stuck between awe and confusion.

When she turned around, she found Eren staring at her, starstruck. It felt good, to have her own child to admire her so much.

“That was so cool, mom!” He said, out loud, in turkish, as if to cement that they truly were not 'true americans', but knowing her son, it was probably not on purpose. She smiled at him and ruffled his hair, so proud of her baby.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, apologies for being late af and this being short af  
> i promise next chapter will be sizeable
> 
> ALSO WELCOME TO THE TIMESKIP, WE'RE GONNA SKIP ANOTHER 4 YEARS
> 
> pls leave kudos and comments they are good for harpies


	8. Time Flies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO BOYS! I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK /bad Independence Day quote  
> did you miss me???  
> i'm absurdely sorry for the absurd wait between chapters and for having the gall to post an erejean week AND a shitton of fanfics in between but i have had 0 inspiration for this fic PLUS i couldn't find my goddamn notebook with the timeskipped chapters.  
> plus there's a fb game called diamond digger and i dedicated myself to surpassing my mother's scores
> 
> anyway, here's 2k words of teenage goodness and a coming out scene that i have been DYING to write.  
> plus there's the hanjos in here

When Eren was 16, he met Hanji. They were 18 and therefore a cool older mentor, but that wasn't their first interaction. He saw them briefly once or twice when accompanying Mikasa to run some errands for her mother in her cousin Levi's house, before she started high school in Japan with her aunt's family, but they never talked to each other.

Which was of no consequence, because one day, Hanji came to talk to him, in all her Korean-Lebanese leathery punk glory.

“So, I hear you like to kick people in the intestines while wearing the frilliest dresses.” They said, amused.

“Uh.” Was Eren's eloquent answer. He started pulling on his short's hem, suddenly self-conscious of all the pink and glitter and the make-up covering his bruised injection on his thigh and on his face, and of his hair being shoulder-length.

“I like your style.”

Eren let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“I like dresses.” He muttered, blushing.

They smiled, undoing and redoing their messy ponytail.

“I _really_ like your style, kid. So, wanna hang out with the cool kids?”

Eren thought about it. Armin had gone to college early as part of some genius child program (granted he wasn't all that far away, UMN was in Minneapolis, only two hours by car away), and Mikasa was a literal continent away, doing some prestigious robotics program in Tokyo while slaying as top of her class, so it's not like he had any friends handy, and was eating alone for the last year and a half. So he agreed.

They had lunch together, spent time together after school, and they introduced Eren to lots of new music that weren't Eurotrash (Hanji was heavy on the electronics, Levi was more into the classics, and they encouraged Eren to explore his tastes farther, though asking him to leave his Eurotrash was met with blank stares and noises of betrayal. They let Eren try their cigarettes (with negative responses that they actually rejoiced at), and even shared a blunt with him. Eren felt pretty cool, being treated like he was responsible for his choices and their consequences, and for blending in with them without having to change.

Being a sophomore sitting on a table with seniors also came with its perks. People started regarding him as someone cool, and invited him to parties (he refused politely, most times, because he didn't like being around too much people).

In one of those few parties he actually went to, he met Reiner.

Reiner was a tall, muscly quarterback from Eren's school football team. He wore his letterman jacket everywhere, his hair was spiked at all times, and he boasted about spending his free time in the gym. Also, he hit on Eren like it was going out of style. Eren flirted back just as much, feeling giddy on the attention and the drinks the other kept bringing him, and he was delighted to see it extended to the next week in class.

Hanji and Levi (because obviously they had to be friends, even though they were polar opposites) teased him mercilessly about it, too, but he didn't care. Another person was treating him like a desirable possible partner, and he loved it. Reiner was also very interested in kissing, and in physical closeness, and, to Eren's slight embarrassment, in his butt. The playful teasing soon turned into heavy make out sessions under the bleachers, and that's when things started going awry.

You see, Eren had talked to his therapist into starting to lower the blockers dosage, to see if he was ready to deal with puberty. And with a rising testosterone level, came the boners. Which was part of why he shoved Reiner away when things started to get steamy. The other part was Reiner trying to put his hands in Eren's skirts. Eren didn't have a good reason to justify that, because he didn't want to vocalize what he really thought about jerking off to Reiner of all people, and he didn't have the words to explain it anyway, because at the first mention of anything sexual his mother mimicked a goldfish, and his father, when he was home, stared blankly at him and decided he needed at least two days of sleep.

So he resorted to asking the only two people he knew could help him: Hanji and Levi.

Who promptly coughed up, choking on their cigarette smokes, and started stammering.

“Quois?” Levi switched languages in astonishment, cleaning his ears. “I don't think I heard that right, repeat that.”

And repeat Eren did, fighting the urge to run away and hide forever.

“Is there something wrong with not liking to touch your own dick?”

Hanji shook their head and repressed a laugh, while Levi, thankfully, seemed to be actually serious about it and was thinking it over.

“Didn't your parents have this talk with you? How old are you, anyway, 16?” The shorter boy asked, thinking how to reply to that over a little.

“I was on full blockers until last year.” He replied lowly.

“Like hormone blockers? Are you telling me you're starting puberty _now_?” Levi said, incredulous.

“Yeah! Okay, this is embarrassing, will your help me or not?” Eren was very close to tears.

“I don't know yet. Depends on if you're doing HRT or not.”

“... What?” He said, confused, and Hanji's shit-eating grin faded a little.

“A'ight, so your answer is, you're just a bottom.” Levi shrugged, and Hanji sighed, passing a bag of something over to the shorter's extended hand. “Toldja, shitty glasses. I'm never wrong.”

“I don't get it?”

You see, the thing with delaying your puberty until you were ready to deal with it is you never actively really seek out sexual things. And Eren being Eren, he actively avoided sexual things until last year, so he missed a big part of the collective sexual exploration phase.

“Are you kidding me?” Levi started, but Hanji interjected.

“A bottom is gay slang for someone who enjoys being in the receiving end of anal sex far more than in the giving. Have you ever experimented with any sort of masturbation?”

This was becoming more embarrassing than before, but he managed a weak 'yes' out.

“Alright. And I assume you tried jacking off at first, but it didn't work out, and then you tried anal play?” Hanji was so serious he felt he was talking to his therapist, and that was something he could do.

“No, I... I loaded RedTube in the gay porn section, and _someone,_ ” he looked pointedly at Levi, “gave me a dildo and a bottle of lube as a gag gift and I just...” He blushed head to toe.

“That's so cute, Eren, did you think of me, too?” Levi teased, amused.

Eren squeaked and hid his face.

“You really did? That's too cute.” The older boy kept teasing, and Hanji hiccuped with laughter. He put his hand on Eren's waist and squeezed, and Eren outright screamed, panicking and accidentally slapping Levi on the face so hard, it left an imprint.

“Oh, my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!” He fussed over Levi, feeling guilty.

“Should I tell your boytoy? I heard he's really possessive, he'll probably fuck you through the mattress.” Levi said, face blank, and then he broke into a huge smirk when Eren groaned and sat down, face burning in his hands and crossing his legs like girls do, which wouldn't be unusual for him, had he not completely defied the laws of Physics by crossing them too tight.

“I cannot believe we actually know what kind of videos he's been jacking off to.” Hanji said, solemn.

  
  


“ _I can't believe this.”_ Jean said when Eren told him he was going out with someone.

“You can't believe what?” Eren said, defensively.

“ _I don't know, I don't even know this guy and I don't trust him.”_ He sighed in his phone's speaker.

“C'mon, be glad for me? Reiner's a good guy, I think, and he's hot as hell.”

“ _Eren, I just have a bad feeling. Football players are normally douchebags. I don't know, my gut feeling is telling me that guy is bad news.”_

“That's easy for you to say, you don't know him.” Eren pouted, adjusting the earphones and pocketing his phone, picking a crown and putting it on his head.

“ _I know, I'm just telling you. I know I can't do anything, but I'm just saying, be safe, okay? I only have two best friends, you and Marco, and I don't want to see you cry. You look like shit when you cry.”_

“Wow, you suck.” He said, laughing. “I'll kick him if he turns out to be a douchebag, okay? Promise.”

“ _You better. I gotta go now, going to the movies with Marco.”_

“Have a good time.” Eren said, harsher than he intended. He always got like this when Jean mentioned his oldest friend.

Just as Jean hang up, his phone rang again.

Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket, and the screen flashed Reiner's name.

“Hey, didn't catch you yesterday!”

“ _Hey, babe. Are you home, alone?”_

“Uh. Yes, why?” Reiner's tone confused Eren.

“ _I'll come over, okay?”_

“Why?”

“ _It's a surprise, babe.”_ And hang up.

Soon enough, Eren heard the sound of a car in the driveway, and stopped his mopping of the floor. He opened the door, and Reiner came in, slamming the door on his way and kissing Eren roughly. He stumbled backwards, and expected Reiner to catch him, but that didn't happen.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He asked when he regained his balance.

“You, obviously.” Was the response, slightly breathless. Reiner squeezed Eren's ass, and if Eren was being honest, he expected more strength than what he got.

“Wh-what? Here?” He stammered, pushing the other away.

“Yes, here. On the floor.”

“No way in hell, I just mopped it!” He pushed Reiner, with more conviction now.

“Cm'on, it's gonna be fun...” Reiner tried to grope him, and Eren was delighted to see that he, in his lithe scrawniness, was stronger than beefcake Reiner.

“ _No._ I don't want to, I'm not feeling it, and you're creeping me out!”

“Is there something wrong, son?”

To the casual observer, Eren's dad was just an annoyed, tired father, but to Eren, who has never seen his father speak in such cold tones before, Grisha Jaeger was very royally pissed and very tired.

“He was just leaving, dad.” Eren pushed the other boy past his parents, out the door and into his car. “Please come back never again.”

“What was that?” Carla asked Grisha curiously, holding a small bag of groceries.

“I don't know, and to be honest, I don't want to know.” The man grumbled, irritated. “Looked like that blond steroid cake was trying to force Eren to do something, but he better not confirm it or I'm going to jail.”

They heard Eren close the door and resume mopping the floor, angrily muttering curses.

“What happened, baby?” Carla asked from the kitchen, organizing the groceries (under Grisha's observation; Jackson the neurologist had asked for regular updates, and so far phase two was going very well).

“For some reason that dick thought we were dating?” He mopped harder, trying to clean something from the tiles that wasn't there anymore.

“You did well, son.” Grisha yawned. “If it's all the same to you, I'm going to sleep until my birthday, now.”

After his father closed the door upstairs, Eren sighed and stopped punishing the floor for something it didn't do.

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, Eren?” She replied, slicing an apple in two and taking out the seeds with a baller.

“Was dad mad at me?”

She looked up from the task at hand (apple, green tea and mint smoothie) in favor of looking at her son.

“No, baby, why would you think that?”

“I don't know. He looked so angry before.” He said, and then sighed again. “I thought it was because of me? I mean, I'm already... weird, and gay on top of it?”

“Who the hell told you that? No, he'd never be angry at you for that, he loves you too much for that! He specifically chose your batch of embryos personally, he'd never hate you.” Sje dropped what she was doing and tried very hard not to run, sitting down on the couch and patting the seat beside her.

“I don't know, mom. Levi said his father hated him and used to beat him and his mother for it. Hanji said they were kicked out and they're living with Levi's family now. I guess it scared me a little?” Eren sat down and leaned on his mom.

“Well, you got lucky. Your father was mad at that boy He doesn't like it when people make you unhappy.”

“I wasn't exactly unhappy, just... I don't know.”

“You're saying that an awful lot.” She pointed out.

“It's because I'm confused. I liked Reiner and then he just... does that. And I feel like I shouldn't have shoved him out like that.” He sighed.

“Why is that, baby?”

“I just--”

“Allah help me, Eren, if you say 'I don't know' one more time, you're cleaning the roof.”

“I wasn't going to say that!” He protested. “I just feel like I'll probably never get anyone else to like me... like that.”

“Like that how? He didn't seem like the romantic type.” She commented.

“No, like. You know how that last pageant, I got princess? I just feel like I'm not pretty enough anymore. And no one else will find me attractive anymore.” He was close to tears, voice having to be forced out through a ball in his throat.

“Baby, you are still very pretty. You're just... A different kind of pretty than girl pageant judges want.”

“I don't like that.”

“Do you want to be a girl? We can call Dr. Polanski about it.”

“I want to! But not all of it. I don't want big boobs or stuff. I just don't want to... I don't know what I was saying anymore.”

“Breathe a little. Think about it a little more.” Carla petted her son's hair softly. “Don't rush it.”

“I don't wanna be neither.” He finally blurted out.

“Can you even be that?” She asked without thinking. “I mean, is that a thing?”

“Hanji says so. They say they're… They call themself gender-neutral? So I guess that's a thing.”

“Well, if you can be that, then be it.”

“You're so cool with everything.” He said, disbelieving.

“Well, son, I don't have a very big expiry date; I'd rather go with no regrets.” She kissed his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading and please consider leaving a comment and kudos for the starving writer! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments! also please point out any spelling mistake, and any dubious passage, i write this au at 3AM


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